Family Ties
by callandra
Summary: Nate finds out that Eliot's long time friend is his estranged daughter. *It's been pointed out that I might need to mention this isn't slash. Eliot/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For anyone who has my other stuff on alert, I haven't forgotten about you, and I never not complete a story. Unfortunately, I have an almost infinite number of them running around my head, and this is what got stuck on repeat in my mind lately. First story for Leverage, reviews are appreciated. And I only wished I owned them. Reviews are appreciated.**

Parker was bored. Two weeks with no job left her completely open for any distraction, and incredibly restless. She was itching to do something. Parker hated being bored. Unfortunately, Hardison was off on a World of Warcraft marathon, and Sophie had dragged Nate off to do something, Parker hadn't really paid much attention when they'd made their plans. That left her with Eliot. Parker didn't like being bored.

"Hey Eliot, you wanna go steal something with me?"

Eliot looked up from the book he was reading at her question. Had she really just asked him to go out and steal something with her? Of course she had, this was Parker.

"No, Parker, I don't wanna help you steal something."

"But I'm bored!"

"So do somethin'! Read a book, go to a movie, do somethin'."

"I wanna go steal something. Come steal a painting with me! We can go to the museum; they have a new exhibit opening soon. I bet they have some good paintings I could lift."

"Parker, for the last time, I don't wanna steal a painting. I'm busy."

"But you're not doing anything!"

"Can you not see I'm readin'?"

He held the book up, waving it in Parker's face. The thief just looked at him, not comprehending.

"I'm busy."

"But you're not busy. You're reading."

"Parker!"

Parker knew that look. It was the "leave -now-before-I-break-you" look. She wisely backed away from the growling hitter, but she didn't give up. She was BORED, and there was no one else around except her plant.

"C'mon, Eliot. Why would you want to read when you could be robbing a museum?"

"There's somethin' wrong with you."

Parker shrugged off the remark. He didn't sound TOO angry, after all. He just sounded his normal unhappy self. Her tone turned wheedling.

"C'mon, Eliot! C'mon c'mon c'mon! You know you want to!"

Eliot slammed the book shut and glared at the blonde.

"Damn it, Parker! You're worse than my nephew, and he's five!"

Still glaring, he put the book on the end table and stood up. If he didn't get out now, he'd end up saying something he'd regret. And if he made Parker cry, Sophie would murder him.

"Where are you going?" Parker called as he slipped on his jacket.

"I've got somewhere I gotta be," he growled at her as he shrugged into it.

"You should have just said you had a date!" he heard as the door shut behind him. Had he actually missed Parker during that six month break? It was hard to remember that now that they'd all been together again for three weeks.

He felt better as he put distance between himself and Parker, heading out of the city proper. He would probably catch hell from Nate for leaving her alone in his apartment, but Eliot didn't care. Babysitting Parker when they were off duty was not in his job description. If she got into trouble, he'd be there in a heartbeat; however, he was no one's nanny. She was a grown woman, surely she could take care of herself until one of the others returned.

Pushing Parker out of his mind, he pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial, grinning to himself(though he would never admit it) when it was answered.

"Hey, it's me. Yeah, I'm on my way over."

"Already?"

"Yeah. You on your way?"

"I should be heading that way in about—umm—twenty minutes or so. Just let yourself in."

"I'll see you in awhile then."

Within a few minutes, he was pulling into the driveway of a modest house, set back just off the road. Eliot liked the neighborhood. It was quiet, peaceful. Everything he couldn't find at the offices. Using the key he'd receive only three days ago, he let himself in. He still had about forty minutes to himself, so he made his way to the kitchen, smiling to see that it was well stocked. Good. His rant about the previous pathetic state of the kitchen must have stuck. He'd cook dinner while he waited.

Looking through the cabinets and refrigerator, he found everything he needed for fajitas. Perfect. They wouldn't take too long to make. Everything would be ready in plenty of time. He pulled out the cutting board, at home in this kitchen, and began chopping up onion. He could feel himself relaxing as he lost himself in cutting up vegetables.

He'd just set the table when he heard the door open and close. His hand tensed instinctively on the knife he'd just placed on the table, and he looked toward the sound.

"It's me, El. What made you decide to cook? It smells wonderful."

He relaxed when he heard the familiar voice, and put the knife back in its place before stepping out of the kitchen into the living room. The young woman with chestnut hair tumbling down her back in curls and waves was a welcome sight after dealing with Parker.

"Long day?"

"Parker."

"Ah. 'Nough said. Well, I'm starving, so it's a good thing you cooked."

Eliot turned his attention to laying dinner out on the table, grabbing a pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge as he sat down. He smiled at the younger woman who took a seat across from him.

"I trust that you left Parker in one piece?"

"It took restraint, but yes, I left her in one piece."

"Is she the one who gave you that shiner?"

Eliot snorted, at the same time self consciously ducking his head. He hadn't thought about the black eye once the entire day. He'd actually forgotten about it, or he might have cancelled tonight altogether.

"No, she didn't give it to me. I just got into a bar fight, Newt, that's all."

"Any injuries I need to check out?"

"No, it was just the eye. Some idiot got in a lucky punch."

Newt took his word for it and dropped the subject, filling up her plate. She was grateful that Eliot was settling in Boston for now. She'd missed his cooking. Eliot poured two glasses of tea while he waited for her to serve herself, and was surprised when she grabbed his plate and began loading food onto it as well.

"Newt, you don't have to do that."

"El, you cooked. I can at least play the gracious hostess and serve. Now, other than wanting to break Parker, how've you been?"

Eliot found himself relaxing even more as they ate, and talked. He'd needed this, needed to get away from the rest of the team, and the job. It was the great thing about Newt, she never pressed him for details. Not in all the years they'd known each other. He could show up on her doorstep broken and bloody (and he had, on a number of occasions, done just that) and she just patched him up, no questions asked.

"Not bad. Just—well, not even busy really. Not since I got back to the States. We just did the one job so far."

"But you want to go back to work."

It was a statement, not a question, and Eliot nodded in confirmation. He hated not having something to do. It was why he'd spent their six month hiatus in Pakistan. Working with the lunatics he now called family had given him a taste for doing good. Nailing that banker who'd crashed a car with a man and his daughter inside had been great.

"And Nate? You said before that he was having some trouble—"

"So far, he's good. I think he was even ready to get back in the game. But what about you? Anything new going on?"

"The usual. My patient politely disregards everything I tell him, and his assistant insists on trying to get into my pants. I almost broke his nose this afternoon."

Eliot growled, making Newt smile. She didn't think he was even aware that he was doing it. The overprotective streak was buried too deep by now to be conscious.

"Do I need to have a talk with this guy?"

"Thanks, but no. I can take care of it."

With a little more prodding on Eliot's part, Newt launched into a detailed description of her day. Victoria Newton was a natural storyteller, with the ability to inject humor into nearly everything, and by the time she was finished, Eliot's earlier sour mood was completely gone. By the time dinner was over, he was more relaxed than Newt had seen him in a long time.

"How long are you staying?"

"We don't have anything going on this weekend, unless I get called in. What about you?"

"Julian went to Spain for the weekend, so I'm off of the property until he comes back."

"He kicked you out?"

"Of course not. The loft is still mine, I just prefer not to stay when Julian isn't there and Sanford is. It's safer for his health that way."

"Seriously, if he becomes a problem, I'll take care of it."

"I know you will. Now, since we both have the weekend, I have a collection of old movies, Mel Brooks, Monty Python, or M*A*S*H. I also recorded the MMA fight last night."

"Newt, you're an angel, you know that."

She herded him out of the kitchen and into the large den before turning her attention to cleaning. Eliot had long ago given up on cleaning up the mess after he cooked for her. She heard the unmistakable sounds of The History of the World, Part I as she scraped food into the garbage disposal and loaded the dishwasher. In just a few minutes, Newt was joining Eliot on the couch, handing him a beer.

"Just FYI, the second bedroom is furnished," she informed him, and he blinked at the seemingly random comment, but went back to watching the movie and nursing his beer.

It was only after she curled up beside him and fell asleep halfway into Monty Python and the Holy Grail that he understood. After he carried the sleeping woman into her room he stopped at the bedroom that had been empty the last time he was over.

Where Newt's room was decidedly feminine, this one was definitely masculine. The furniture was all a dark mahogany, and the walls were a dark blue. If Eliot wasn't mistaken, the comfort on the bed, in shades of blue and brown, was similar, very similar, to the one he'd had in L.A. The one he'd been sorry to be rid of.

A thought occurred to Eliot, and he checked the sheets. Egyptian cotton, as he'd suspected. Next was the closet, where he found several of his things. He recognized clothes he'd left at her place, and an old guitar of his, which he'd asked her to hold for him a couple of years ago. The space practically screamed "Eliot". Newt had given him his own room in her house.

As he stared at the bed he realized that he actually WAS tired. He grabbed a t-shirt and pair of sweats, changing quickly. With Newt sleeping next door, he wasn't comfortable just stripping down to his boxers, as he would be in his own home. It would be like stripping down with the rest of the team next door. He wasn't Parker, who had no qualms about changing clothes in front of anyone and everyone. Yawning, he turned the small desk lamp on, and the overhead light off, then climbed into the bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. If he was lucky, tonight the nightmares would be limited.

Parker watched from her perch outside as Eliot changed his clothes, then climbed into bed. It had been fairly easy to tail him, and she'd still been bored. Plus she wanted to make sure he wasn't too mad at her. He'd managed to surprise her when he pulled into the driveway of a house. They'd only been in Boston for a few weeks, and he already had a house?

She meant to leave him alone once she found him, she really did. Then she smelled food cooking, and decided to hang around. Plus, she kind of wanted to see who Eliot was dating. They knew so little about their hitter. The young woman who pulled up to the house wasn't what she expected. For one thing, she didn't look like she was a stripper.

Parker was confused by everything she saw. The night had all the makings of what normal people considered a date. She knew all about normal people dates; Sophie had told her all about them. Dinner, a movie, going home with your date and having sex—

There had been dinner, and two movies, but Eliot had carried his date into one bedroom then gone into another. Now, he was sleeping alone. There hadn't been any sex. She hadn't even seen any kissing. What kind of a date was that? And when did Eliot actually start living with a woman? Eliot was the kind of guy who had Dates, not Girlfriends. And why was he going to be so early? It was barely eleven o'clock. They were usually up much later when they were running a job. Was he sick? She didn't get it. Maybe Sophie could help her figure it out. Yeah. She would talk to Sophie.

A decision made, Parker started to climb down from the roof. She nearly screamed when she reached the ground and found herself face to face with an armed Eliot's Girlfriend.

"Oh, shiny tomato!"

"Shh." Eliot's Girlfriend told her, nodding towards the window. "You don't want to wake him up. He would not be happy with you."

"You're not gonna—um—stab me with that or anything, are you?"

"If you'd actually come into the house, I would absolutely stab you. You must be Parker."

The blonde looked shocked. Eliot told her about them? So, she knew what he did? More importantly—

"Wait a minute. How did you know I was here?"

"I saw you on top of my roof when I drove up. Or course, I expected you to be long gone by now."

"You couldn't have seen me. No one sees me."

Newt had to bite back a laugh. Parker, and she was now certain the blonde was Parker from Eliot's stories, looked so insulted at the idea that she'd been spotted. It was cute.

"I saw you Parker. You're just lucky Eliot didn't. Now, I'll put my knife away if you tell me why you're casing my house."

Parker relaxed as the other woman did in fact lower the shiny knife. It looked like the sort of knife Eliot would carry, and Parker had to wonder if Eliot's Girlfriend was as prone to violence as he was. She didn't look that dangerous.

"I was following Eliot. He sounded kind of mad when he left so I followed him. And then he was cooking, and then you came in and I really wanted to see what his new girlfriend looked like and I have to say you really don't look like his type. I mean, you don't look like a stripper or anything, unless you're like a really high class call girl, not that there's anything wrong with that or anything—"

Newt hastily cut the girl off, amazed both that she managed to get all of that out in one breath, and that Parker seemed to think she was Eliot's girlfriend.

"Where did you get the idea—you know what? Never mind, I don't want to know. I'm going back to bed now, and unless you want Eliot to find you here when he wakes up, I suggest you leave quickly."

"You're not gonna tell him I was here?"

"Nah. But I wouldn't make a habit of following him over here, next time you might not be so lucky. Someday you'll have to tell me what's so fascinating about this place that you stayed on my roof for hours," Newt tossed over her shoulder as she turned for the door.

"It's a real house."

Newt stopped in her tracks at that statement, and turned back around to face the blonde thief.

"Pardon?"

"It's a real house. None of us have one of those, and Eliot does."

"You don't have a house?"

"Nate has an apartment, and Hardison has a loft or something somewhere. No one has a real house."

"What about you?"

"I have a place, but it's not a house."

Parker didn't mention that she was living in an abandoned warehouse. She liked Eliot's Girlfriend, and didn't want her to think she was strange, like Eliot always said she was. Parker knew that normal people would think living in an abandoned warehouse was strange.

"Well, Parker, it's almost eleven thirty at night, so it's a bit late for a grand tour. That'll have to wait for another day."

Parker nodded and collected her hat, which had fallen on the ground when Eliot's Girlfriend surprised her. She stood, arranging it on her head, then froze.

"Wait a minute. You mean I can come back?"

Eliot's Girlfriend had said a tour would have to wait for another day. That meant Parker would have ot come back to take a tour.

"As long as you don't try to break in, sure. And you should make sure Eliot's not here, I think he'd get pissed you followed him."

Parker nodded, and disappeared, leaving Newt to shake her head. Eliot was right: there was something wrong with that girl. But other than that, Parker was okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! I guess that means people actually like this. This part takes place during and after The Tap Out Job, so if you haven't seen it, you've been warned. Also, I managed to get my brother hooked on Leverage as well, and he "borrowed" my Season 2, so some of the details may not be exact. If something's wrong, it's only because I can't go back and watch it over again. As always, reviews are appreciated, and of course I don't own any of these guys, although I wouldn't mind owning Eliot…**

Eliot walked out of the gym, down the back alley. He still didn't like this part of the plan. He'd gotten all warmed up, and ready, in the gym, but he was still walking into an alley, deliberately setting himself up to get attacked by an unknown number of men. While Rutger, the filth they were in town to con, was watching him, Eliot had made his own observations. While most of the fighters would be too easy to take care of, he still didn't like coming up against an entire group of them.

Two trucks pulled up, blocking his exit, and he backed up to the dumpster. Anyone coming at him would have to come from the front. He wasn't about to leave room for them to come at him from behind.

"Alright, Eliot, Parker's getting video, so make this good. And be careful."

Eliot rolled his eyes at Nate's instructions. Making a fight look good and being careful was sort of an oxymoron for him. This would be good. Parker had just better get some useful video, 'cause he was only doing this once. The first man came at him, and Eliot pushed everything else out of his mind except putting the men coming at him down.

"Okay, we've got him," Nate's voice came over the com, "Eliot, come on back in."

Eliot got out of Rutger's office as quickly as possible, and made his way back to the hotel. He felt the overwhelming urge to shower after sitting in the same room with the man. He entered Nate's suite to find Sophie sitting on the couch with Parker, complaining about something. From the sound of it, she'd been complaining for awhile.

"This guy's scum," Eliot commented to no one in particular as he grabbed a bottle of water. Parker looked over at him, momentarily distracted from Sophie. Nate looked up at him from his location behind Hardison, staring at the computer. Eliot looked over at the screen to see the video Parker had taken still playing. He was getting a little tired of seeing it, when he was still feeling it.

"We're gonna get this guy, Eliot. For now, why don't you get some rest? You don't have anything until tomorrow, and I don't want a run in with any of Rutgers men."

Eliot could handle that. He'd rather grab a beer and maybe chat up a waitress, maybe more than just chat up a waitress, but he really didn't want to run into any of the men whose asses he'd kicked earlier. He left with a tossed out "let me know when you need me" and stepped next door into his room.

Sighing to himself, and gingerly touching his ribs, he grabbed his duffle bag and dug through it until he found what he was looking for: his glasses and a book. He wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon; he would use the downtime to get some reading in. At some point he had to get the book back to Newt. He thought about calling her just to vent about this entire situation, but she would be busy. Hell, she might not even be in Boston right now. Julian Santiago te wouHHravelled almost as much as they did, and Newt went with him much of the time. No, he'd call her, and probably go over to the house when they got back.

Parker waited until Eliot was gone and the other two men were distracted before she poked Sophie.

"What is it, Parker?"

"Why would two people live together and not have sex?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

Parker leaned closer, wanting to make sure Nate and Hardison couldn't listen in.

"Eliot's living with a woman, in a real house, but they're not having sex. Why would they not have sex if they're living together?"

Parker had debated long and hard about talking to Sophie. She'd spent the last two days arguing with herself: talk to Sophie, don't talk to Sophie. She liked Eliot's Girlfriend, and really didn't want the invitation to the house rescinded before she got to see it, but she just didn't understand it. In the end, she decided she had to talk to Sophie.

"Parker, how do you know Eliot's living with a woman?"

"I followed him the other day. He let himself into this house, with a key and everything. Eliot's Girlfriend came in later, and it looked like a normal person date. He cooked for her, and they watched movies, but when she fell asleep he carried her into one bedroom, but stayed in another. Why wouldn't they have sex?"

Sophie digested that information in surprise. It was hard to imagine their Eliot living with a woman, but if he had a key to the house, it was the logical conclusion. And he put a sleeping woman to bed without trying to join her? That didn't sound like Eliot. It threw the hitter into a whole new light.

"I don't know, Parker. Maybe she's a relative?"

"They don't look alike. And she doesn't sound like him either."

"You talked to her?"

"She-she kind of caught me when I was leaving. She offered to give me a tour of the house on a day Eliot's not there. She said I could come back."

"And where was Eliot during all this?"

If Eliot hadn't told anyone about living with a woman, it was because he didn't want them to know. Sophie couldn't imagine Eliot would be very happy if he caught Parker following him to his girlfriend's.

"He was asleep. But why didn't they have sex? I don't get it."

"I don't know, Parker."

Parker blinked. Sophie didn't know?

"You think I should ask Nate?"

Parker stated to rise from the seat, but Sophie held her down.

"That would be a bad idea, Parker. I don't think Eliot wants anyone to know about this. I think he'd be very angry if he found out that WE know, let alone Nate."

Parker sat back down. She didn't want to make Eliot mad at her. If Eliot got mad, something could go wrong with the con. And if that happened, Nate wouldn't pay her.

Eliot couldn't figure out why Sophie kept giving him that speculative look. She'd been doing it all morning—and now she was doing it again. Like she was trying to figure him out. Again.

"Is there a problem Sophie?" he asked, unable to take the continued silent staring. Since they were in the car, on their way to meet Rutger, he couldn't exactly get away from it. Come to think of it, Parker had been looking at him strangely too. He'd dismissed it because, well, it was Parker. But now he had to wonder about it. What the hell were those women up to?

"No problem at all, Eliot," Sophie answered quickly. Too quickly. Something was definitely working its way through her mind, something Eliot was sure he wasn't going to like.

"So, tell me about the mark. I've heard from Nate, but you've spent more time with the man."

"He's a snake. Working these boys half to death in the ring, making 'em think they have a chance at fighting, then he fixes the matches so that he'll make money, and destroys the ones who actually have a shot. I'd love to have just five minutes alone with the guy."

"Calm down, Eliot. You can't do anything to Rutger. Remember, the goal is to get the Howorth's the money they need," Nate's voice came through the com.

"So let Hardison do his hacker thing with the money, and let me have Rutger."

It sounded like a perfectly acceptable plan to Eliot. Hardison could play on his computers and take all of Rutger's money, and Eliot could take care of Rutger. The Howorth's would get their money, and everyone was happy.

"Yeah, Eliot, about that. You do something like that to Rutger, he puts two and two together, and he'll go after the Howorth's."

"Wouldn't be anything left to go after anybody."

The silence on the coms, as well as Sophie's rather horrified stare, told Eliot he'd managed to shock them. He just shook his head. He couldn't help the way he felt about this case, it was hitting a little too close to home. And why should they be surprised he was thinking of killing the man? Just what did they think most hitters did? Just because Eliot used non-lethal force ninety percent of the time, did they all forget that he was just as comfortable being deadly when the occasion warranted.

"We're here, Eliot," Sophie's voice interrupted his thoughts and got him back into the present. He could take a trip down memory lane later. Right now they had a mark to set up.

Sophie and Parker took seats next to Rutger, Sophie already dreading what was coming up. Their cover had been blown, and in just a few minutes, Eliot had to climb into the ring and throw a fight. Sophie was worried about how this would affect the young hitter. He always had to keep control over the violence inside him, and now he had to let that go. He had to let this Tank beat him, and beat him well. Eliot said he was fine with it, but Sophie doubted that. Damn Rutger's assistant for having a cousin in South Dakota.

Parker elbowed Sophie. Eliot was coming out, with Nate and Hardison. He climbed into the ring, shaking his head and shoulders, trying to stay loose. Sophie watched him carefully for a minute, then looked to Nate. Nate nodded at her as the bell rang, and the fighters made first contact. Tank towered over Eliot, and he wasn't holding back.

Sophie and Parker watched in horrified fascination as Eliot took a brutal beating. It was part of the job, Plan B, and Sophie knew that at any moment Eliot would turn the tables and put Tank down, but it was terrible to watch. They watched as it looked as if Tank had Eliot pinned, and Nate held up the water bottle. Sophie turned to Rutger. It was time.

"What have you done?"

"He said he'd throw the fight!"

"You think I'm gonna trust a bunch of thieves?"

"Eliot's not like other fighters!" Sophie barely spared a glance at Eliot, who now had Tank in a choke hold. The other man was tapping out, but Eliot didn't let him go.

"He fights to survive! You've just taken the safety off the gun!"

Nate was trying in earnest to get Eliot to let the other man go. The water bottle was clean, they'd switched it out, but it looked as if Eliot really had lost control. Or worse, as if Eliot was no longer Eliot.

"Eliot, stop!"

The referee was trying to pull the two men apart, and Eliot finally let go. He'd lost it when he was on the floor and he'd acted instinctively. The other man was a threat. The threat had to be eliminated. He maneuvered around so that he had his arm around the man's neck. He didn't hear anything around him; it was all just background noise. His entire focus on eliminating the threat in the ring, on surviving.

The other man eventually stopped struggling, and someone was pulling him away. Nate's voice finally registered, yelling for him to stop, and Eliot rolled up to a sitting position, backing away as the doctor came through. He felt a hand on his arm; Nate was trying to get his attention. Eliot climbed out of the ring, taking a seat as the gym emptied of people. He vaguely heard the doctor say "he's dead", and buried his head in his hands.

_Rain. It was raining outside when they finally left the restaurant. He couldn't believe that Newt had only two mixed drinks the entire night. She'd just turned twenty one, for heaven's sake. _

"_C'mon Newt, there's a great bar just up the road. I'll buy you another drink."_

_He only vaguely heard Emma protesting from his left; he was already a few beers in. He didn't quite get why Emma was objecting, it was only 10:3; there was plenty of time before she had to get back to their dad's house. _

"_Em can't go into a bar, El. And I don't need another drink. I have to be at the hospital in the morning, I can't be hung over."_

"_One more won't hurt you, Newt. And I know the owner, they'll let Em in, they just won't let her drink. C'mon."_

_The trio were the only ones who left the party, and Eliot wanted to stay, but Newt was tired of being harassed by an over eager patron. To him the solution was simple: find a new place to party. _

_Jab. Punch. Punch again. Knee to nose._

_They didn't leave the bar alone. Newt's admirer had come out after them, and he brought his friends._

_Impact with the wall, spin around, get in the fight. They were trying to drag off Newt and Em. This was now a threat._

"Eliot!"

Fingers were snapping in his face, and he looked up at Nate. Judging by the concern on the other man's face, Nate had been trying to get his attention for some time.

"Yeah?"

"What happened?"

"Nothin'."

Now was not the time for Nate to know he'd had a flashback. There was nothing to do about it, and they had more important things to worry about.

"Are we done?"

"For now. The doc wants to check you out."

"I'm fine, Nate."

"We'll let him be the judge of that."

"Nate—"

"You're not leaving this gym until you get the all clear from the doctor, Eliot. You understand me?"

Eliot growled softly, but Nate ignored it.

"Fine. I'll see the damn doc."

He didn't need a doctor. He knew he didn't have a concussion, which is what the doc would be checking for. He didn't even have any life threatening injuries, mostly just bruises, and a few cuts. Nothing that wouldn't heal on its own. He knew Nate was concerned, but really, he just wanted to go back to the hotel.

He sat, impatiently, through the doctor's exam. He bit out answers as the man poked, probed, and prodded. If the man didn't back off soon, Eliot would hurt him. His glare must have accurately conveyed the threat, because the doctor hurried through his exam.

"Can I go now? We both know I don't got a concussion."

"I'd advise visiting the hospital for a complete workup. You have a number of broken ribs, and—"

"I ain't goin' to the hospital."

His tone left no room for argument, but the doctor continued once more.

"You don't have a concussion, Mr. Spencer, but you could have internal injuries. You really need x-rays."

"I'll see my doctor when I get back, but I ain't goin' to the hospital."

The raised voices drew Nate's attention from Rutgers escape, and he left the others to join Eliot.

"Is there a problem, Doc?"

"I ain't goin' to the hospital, Nate. I promise I'll see my doctor when I get back, but I ain't goin'."

Nate knew the younger man had a problem with hospitals, but he looked to the doctor. If Eliot refused to listen to common sense, Nate would override him.

"As long as he sees a doctor the moment he gets back, I'll clear him to fly. Trying to force him to to go a hospital might just cause more injuries."

"Damn straight. Now can I go back to the hotel and get some sleep?"

Nate just shook his head. Sometimes Eliot was just too damned stubborn for his own good.

"Yeah, you can go back to the hotel. Rest up. We're on a flight out tomorrow afternoon."

Eliot didn't need any more encouragement; he was already on his way to the van.

Eliot limped back into Nate's apartment, a bag slung over his shoulder. Despite his injuries, he insisted on helping carry the gear in, against Nate's arguments and Sophie's gentle urging that he lie down and rest. The flight back had been Hell on his injured body, and he was stiff and sore, but he needed something to do until Newt arrived. He'd called her before they even left Lincoln, happy to learn that she was in Boston, and she would pick him up outside McRory's bar once they arrived. She would be there soon, of that Eliot was certain, and he just needed to keep busy until she pulled up.

"Eliot, if you don't calm down and take care of those injuries, I'm driving you straight to the hospital. Now, we need to get you to a doctor so you can get checked out. Do you have personal physician you want me to call? Otherwise I can call in a favor or two, and have someone I know take a look at you."

"I got it covered Nate. I wasn't lyin' when I said I had a doctor, and I would get checked out. They're on their way to get me."

Nate was pleasantly surprised at that. He'd expected a much harder time from Eliot about getting examined. Nate just hoped this doctor knew what they were doing. And what type of patient Eliot could be. He also found himself wondering how Eliot knew a doctor that was willing to come out and get him. And where was he going to go?

"Going somewhere?"

"I thought you said I had a couple of days off. I'm gonna take 'em. "

Any further discussion was ended when Eliot's phone rang, and after a quick conversation, he told everyone he would see them in a few days. Nate quickly followed him out the door to make sure that he didn't fall on his way down.

"I'm not some damn invalid, Nate. I can make it to a car without fallin' on my ass, you know."

"Normally I'd agree with you. Now which car is it?"

"The blue-ish Pontiac."

As Eliot pointed the car out, it pulled up to the curb, and Nate helped the hitter into the passenger seat. He barely glanced at the driver, but when he did, he froze. She looked like—no, it couldn't be. He would know if she was in Boston, wouldn't he? Nah, couldn't be her.

He lost his chance to take a closer look once Eliot got himself into the passenger seat and shut the door. As soon as the door closed, they were off, leaving Nate to look after them. Could he really have just seen Victoria picking up Eliot? No. It wasn't possible. He was more tired than he'd thought. That had to be the explanation.

"Damn, El. He got you good, didn't he? You want to talk about it?"

"Nothin' to talk about, Newt."

She spared him a glance before turning her attention back to the road. He looked terrible, and the fact that he called telling her he needed to get checked out but didn't want to go to the hospital—well, that brought back memories. And he looked so tired, much more than from a simple fight. She'd seen him after bad fights before; she knew something was different about this one.

"You really expect me to believe your bullshit? Spill it."

"Where are we going?" He just noticed they were not headed in the direction of the house, and looked at her questioningly. If she tried to take him to a hospital—

"We're going to Julian's. All of the equipment is out there. Now, talk."

"It's nothin', Newt. The job got blown, and I had to throw a fight."

He had to throw a fight. Willingly take a brutal beating. That couldn't have been easy, not mentally.

"Anything else?"

Eliot sighed. He should have known Newt wouldn't leave it alone. And maybe he should tell her. She would understand better than Nate, or Sophie. He trusted his team, his family, but they had never gone through anything with him. Newt had.

"We had to convince the mark that I accidentally killed the fighter. For a minute there, I actually thought I had."

He thought he'd accidentally-damn, this was bad. Newt kept her focus on the road so that Eliot couldn't see her face. She was half tempted to call Nate and absolutely ream into him for putting Eliot through that. The only reason she was holding off was that she was certain Nate didn't know what it would have done to the other man, and Eliot wouldn't have shared.

"I—"

"It was my twenty first birthday all over again, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Alright then. I'll get you x-rayed, and you can crash at my loft."

After several minutes, they pulled off the main road and through a security gate. Eliot opened his eyes to see a long drive up to a mansion. He'd never seen Julian Santiago's mansion before. Newt pulled up to the front of the house and climbed out, where a valet was waiting for her. Eliot pushed his door open and was out of the car before the poor guy could get to the door. He glared at the young man, who couldn't have been out of his early twenties, and received a glare from Newt in return.

"Good evening, Doctor Newton. Will you need your car again this evening?"

"No thank you, Steven. My guest will be staying with me tonight. I won't need the car until tomorrow."

"Very good, Doctor. Do I need to inform Mr. Santiago?"

"No, he's been informed."

Newt led Eliot through the main house to a study, which had been turned into a clinic. Eliot was impressed; it was a mini hospital. He didn't think anything was missing that a hospital would use to check him out. Newt could probably even operate here if she had to. He found himself wishing he had this kind of set up when the team got hurt, and he was patching people up.

"Take your shirt off," she ordered him as she turned on the equipment.

"You trying to get me to strip?" he teased. "All you had to do was ask, darlin'."

"I've seen you naked before Eliot. If you wanted to show it off, you didn't need to get beat up to do it, honey."

He'd thought he wasn't capable of blushing anymore, but somehow Newt did it.

"Let's just get this over with, okay?"

Forty five minutes later, all of Newts tests were done, the x-rays revealed their bad news, and Eliot's ribs, and wrist were wrapped. After a shot of morphine, she helped him through the house to the loft above the garage, which she'd taken over as hers.

"Now, why do you live over the garage? I thought the chauffer would live here."

"Michael and his family live in my quarters. The loft wasn't large enough, since the triplets were born a year ago."

She found a pair of men's pajama bottoms and a t-shirt sitting on the bed, with a note from Julian that they were for her guest. She grabbed her own pajamas and headed for the bathroom to change, giving Eliot a chance to change himself. He shot into the bathroom as soon as she was out, and within a few minutes, they were both climbing into her king sized bed to fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or alerted. The stupid plot gnomes are finally back where they belong, instead of wandering around Vegas. As always, I don't own this. **

Parker sat perched in the tree, waiting. She'd been in the tree for nearly an hour, but still, no one was moving. There were four men, standing not ten feet below her, but they showed no sign of leaving. They just stood, smoking cigars, completely ignoring the party going on in the mansion behind them. They cigar smoke drifted up into the tree, and Parker had to fight not to choke on it.

"Parker, are you in yet?"

Nate's voice seemed incredibly loud in her ears, and she was half expecting the men below her to hear it and look up.

"Parker?"

"Not in. Stuck in a tree," she said as softly as she could. The men's talking covered Parker's speech, but she still didn't like the risk.

"Parker? Can you get down?"

Nate sounded amused, as if he thought she was literally stuck in the tree¸ and Parker rolled her eyes. It didn't help when Hardison added his own thoughts, and Parker silently promised herself that when they were back in Nate's apartment, she would remind the hacker just how easily she could put him on the floor, gasping for air.

"Parker, are you really stuck in the tree?"

Eliot was trying hard not to laugh, which Parker appreciated. At least he wasn't making fun of her, which was what she expected.

"Not alone here."

The snorts and jokes stopped as they all seemed to realize that she could actually be in trouble. Suddenly they were all business again.

"Alright. Eliot, get over to Parker and take care of it. We need to get in that office now. Sophie, you'll have to keep our guy on the hook a little longer."

Parker's attention was diverted from the conversation going on in her ear piece when a woman walked up to the group, and laid her hand on a man's arm.

"What's Eliot's Girlfriend doing here?"

"What?"

"Parker, you fucking followed me?"

Damn. She hadn't meant to say anything, but it just came out when she saw Eliot's Girlfriend. All conversation stopped when Eliot yelled at Parker, his tone suggesting great physical harm to the blonde. Then everyone started talking at once.

"Eliot has a girlfriend!"—Hardison

"Parker, what's she wearing? I want to see her."—Sophie

"Eliot, go help Parker. Everyone else stay on task, we can't let this guy slip through our fingers."

The house they were breaking into belonged to an investment banker they suspected was into arms dealing. Considering that what they did wasn't exactly legal, they wouldn't normally get involved over simple arms dealing, but their client lost all their money through investments the man had set up. Further digging had shown that the banker had created a number of phony stocks, and "investment plans", then siphoned off the money. He'd stolen from retirees, a couple who was expecting their first child, and a non-profit, just to name a few.

All they needed were the files the man kept in his safe. Hardison had already cracked the accounts, ready to completely wipe the guy out. Once they had the files, actual proof that he was stealing, that information would find its way to Parker's friend Agent McSweeten in the FBI. Not only would all of his money be gone, but he would be in jail. They had to get this right.

"Julian!"

Parker's attention was again focused on the group below her when Eliot's Girlfriend started scolding—there was no other word for it—one of the smoking men. To her surprise, he actually extinguished the cigar, looking sheepish. Parker couldn't hear what the other men said, but the group moved away, which was her main concern.

"Hold Eliot, the group's leaving."

After another minute, the five were back inside the house, and Parker was alone.

"Don't think I'm forgettin' about this, Parker!"

Finally alone, Parker finished her climb to the top of the tree, until it met the roof of the house. Once she was on the roof, getting in the house was easy.

"I'm in. Heading to the office now."

The party was on the first floor, and fortunately the private office was on the third floor. Parker only had to hide from one couple that had a bit too much to drink and was searching for an empty room. Once they passed, she was able to quickly pick the lock, and then she was inside.

"A wall safe. How unoriginal."

"Parker, just crack the safe."

"He didn't even try to conceal it. I'm just saying."

She turned her attention to the safe, and in a few minutes, she had the safe open.

"Bingo. We've got everything we need here."

"Alright, Parker, just get it and get out. Only what we need, you got that?"

Parker looked through the file, and saw the documents she was looking for. This guy was getting less and less impressive. Everything needed to put him in jail for a long time was just sitting in a file, in a safe. This guy was either incredibly arrogant, or stupid.

"Parker, you out yet?"

"On the way."

She quickly grabbed what they needed, and shoved the file back in the safe. She quietly opened the office door, and immediately shut it again.

"Hardison, I need another exit."

"Parker, what's wrong?"

"Five men, with guns."

"Did they see you?"

"I don't think so."

The footsteps were getting closer to the door. Parker held her breath, just waiting for them to come in, but they stopped outside. Parker could see the shoes of at least three men through the crack under the doorway.

"They're stopped outside the door. No vents to climb through."

"Alright, Parker, if you go out the window, there's a balcony on the floor directly below you."

Parker crossed to the window, and discovered that the window wouldn't open. It was welded shut.

"Window's a no go."

"Alright. Eliot, get her out of there."

Eliot shook his head, mentally cursing Parker and the rest of the team as he excused himself from the woman he'd been chatting up. First, he found out that Parker had followed him to Newt's house, now he had to go get her.

"Eliot, it's not her fault armed men stopped outside the door."

He ignored Sophie, not wanting to hear the voice of reason. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he still wanted to be pissed at her. He made his way up to the third floor, and sure enough, there were five armed men, standing in conversation, just outside the door to the office. Fortunately, they didn't see him.

He moved quickly, and within seconds they were all unconscious on the floor. He opened the door, stepping over the bodies.

"Parker."

He saw her silhouette, standing in the corner. When she saw that it was Eliot, she hurried out of the room.

"I got her, Nate."

"Good. Parker, get back to the van. We're gonna wrap this up now."

Parker was gone before Eliot turned back to yell at her. Eliot cursed under his breath as he hurried back down the stairs.

"Eliot? What are you doing here?"

He winced at the sound of Newt calling his name. He didn't want to run into her while he was on a job. Damn.

"Newt, it's—it's really not a—a good time."

"What do you mean? Are you—are you on a job?"

"It's not a good time."

Newt looked at him carefully, and Eliot had to force himself to keep looking her in the eye. He knew that look.

"I ain't injured. I promise."

"Alright then. I should be done here in another hour. You'll call me if I need to treat anything?"

"I haven't been fightin', darlin'. I'm not hurt."

He didn't consider taking down those five men to be fighting, since none of them actually got a blow in.

"Alright."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and started off, until a disbelieving voice broke through.

"Victoria?"

She spun around to see the person she least expected, and swore softly, before schooling her face into a neutral expression.

"Hello Nate."

Eliot saw the glare Nate directed at him, but he didn't see the fist flying until it him square in the face.

"What the hell, Nate?"

Nate's fist flew again, and Eliot cursed.

"Damn it, Nate!"

They were starting to draw attention, and Newt and Sophie made the wise decision to drag them outside. As soon as they were out of the house, Nate tried to hit Eliot again.

"Nate, get a grip!"

Newt kept her hand on Eliot's arm, and put herself between the two men. Sophie tried to hold Nate back, but he pulled free and went for Eliot again. Newt stopped him with a single punch to the face.

"Victoria? Is everything alright out here?"

She spared a glance at Julian, who was watching the scene with frank interest, and mild concern. She wasn't surprised to see that he'd followed her out the door after Nate's fist flew.

"Yes, thank you Julian. We're fine."

"Like hell we are," Eliot growled as Nate just glared at him, "why the hell did you attack me?"

"You're sleeping with my daughter?"

"What?"

The incredulity, coming from both Eliot and Newt, had Nate confused. Sophie, noticing that Eliot's question was directed at his companion and not Nate, looked on in growing interest, until she realized that the man named Julian was not the only one watching.

"Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private, yeah?"

"Right. Julian, I need to leave now."

"Of course."

He pulled out his cell phone as Nate lunged for Eliot again, and Newt once again hit him, while looking everywhere but at Eliot. After all, this wasn't exactly how she'd planned to divulge that news.

"Andrew will drop you wherever you wish to go, and you'll call him when you're ready to be picked up."

She thought about objecting, but reconsidered it. Putting Eliot and Nate in a car together was probably not a wise idea at the moment.

"Thank you, Julian."

"Nate, why don't you come with me, and Eliot, you ride with-Victoria, was it? I'm Sophie, by the way. We'll head back to the building. Eliot can get you there."

The two women share a look of understanding, and Newt dragged Eliot to the limo that pulled up the driveway.

"I ain't ridin' in that thing."

"Yes you are. Now get in."

The driver opened the back door for them, and Newt unceremoniously pushed Eliot inside. As soon as the driver was inside, Eliot gave their destination as McRory's Bar. Newt snorted. Typical. Eliot put up the privacy screen as they drove off.

"Alright Newt, what the hell is going on here? Nate's your father?"

"Alex Newton was my father. Nate was just the sperm."

"Run that by me again?"

"Alright, Nate, you want to explain why you attacked Eliot back there?"

Sophie started on him the moment they were in the van, and Hardison and Parker were both paying close attention, eager to understand what they heard through the comms.

"Sophie—"

"No, Nate. You attacked Eliot. And I don't want to get back to the office and have it happen again, so tell us what's going on."

Nate glared at Sophie, but she just looked back at him calmly. He glanced in the rearview mirror, at Hardison and Parker, and sighed.

"Victoria—the woman Eliot was with—is my daughter, alright? You happy now?"

"But—"

"Look, I dated her mother when I was a kid. I was twenty when she was born, and her mom raised her."

"And you didn't know that she was living with Eliot?" Parker asked him curiously.

"I didn't even know she was in Boston. What do you mean, she's living with Eliot?"

Sophie grew concerned when Nate started drifting into the lane of oncoming traffic.

"Alright, Nate, let's just wait until we're at the apartment to address that. Getting us all killed won't solve anything."

Seeing that she had a point, Nate grudgingly focused his attention on driving them all safely back to his place. They made it to the building much faster than they should have, and Nate glanced longingly at McRory's as Sophie forced him to pass the bar and head up to his condo. God, but he wanted a drink.

He knew that he had three sets of eyes practically burning a hole in the back of his head as he focused on the coffee maker, but he ignored them for the moment. He had more important things to worry about. What was Victoria doing in Boston? How long had she been here? And most importantly, why was she living with Eliot? They'd only been in Boston a few weeks, and Nate was reasonably certain she'd been raised better than to move in with a man she barely knew.

"Nate, how long has it been since you've seen Victoria?" Sophie asked him gently.

"Seven years."

Seven years. Had it really been that long? Yes, it had. Seven years since she'd left his house in the middle of the night, leaving behind a note telling Nate that the only thing she wanted from him was his absence from her life. Seven years since Maggie told him that he was a damn fool, and that if he was going to try to control Sam's life as he had Victoria's, he could just get the hell out now. Not his finest moment.

The door opened, and Nate turned around, steeling himself as Eliot and Victoria walked in. Eliot eyed him warily, staying on the other side of the room, while Victoria looked as if she wanted nothing more than to hit him again.

"Victoria, why don't you sit down, I know those Manolo's can't be comfortable. Eliot, let me get you some ice for that—yeah."

Sophie took charge when it became obvious that neither Eliot nor Victoria seemed inclined to move, and Nate just watched them, speechless. To her relief, Victoria did take a seat on the couch and Eliot automatically went with her. The result was that Victoria was seated between Eliot and Parker, who automatically scooted closer, staring at the woman from only inches away.

"Yes, Parker?" Newt asked, more amused by the thief than anything else.

"I didn't mean to tell."

"I'm sure you didn't."

Newt really had no idea what Parker meant, but decided to just go with it.

"Really. I didn't mean to tell. I saw you at the party, and it kind of slipped out. Eliot's really mad at me."

Now it made sense. Eliot knew that Parker had followed him that day.

"Eliot's mad a lot, Parker."

"Eliot can hear you, you know," he groused at the women who were speaking as if he wasn't there.

"So can I still see your house?"

"Not a chance in Hell you're getting inside—"

"Sure."

"Sure?"

Eliot looked at Newt, not believing what he was hearing. She was willing to let Parker into her house?

"You want to—Parker—?" he couldn't even finish the sentence.

"I'm not giving her a room or anything, El. She just wants to see inside. I think we can let her do that, once."

"So much for any peace or quiet," he muttered to himself. Newt gave him a half glare. Sophie came back from the kitchen with an ice pack, and handed it to Eliot, then took a seat in a chair.

"You seem to know a lot about us, Victoria."

"Was that a question, Sophie?"

"I'm curious as to just how well you know Eliot. He's never mentioned having a friend in Boston."

"I didn't realize that he was required to divulge everything about his personal life to you guys."

Sophie was giving her an assessing look, and Newt recognized it, even though she'd never met the woman before today. It was the same look she sometimes saw in Richard Sanford's face, when he was trying to figure out whether she would fall for his act, or when he was trying to convince her of something she never believed. Sophie was trying to read her, discreetly.

"So, how long have you and Eliot—" Sophie trailed off delicately, and Newt had to bite back a laugh. Eliot looked even more uncomfortable, and his glance darted between Sophie and Nate.

"Long enough," Newt finally answered. Eliot stared at her like she'd gone crazy, but it was the look on Nate's face that was truly priceless, and worth whatever yelling Eliot might do later. Nate's face was turning an impressive shade of purple, and he was clenching his coffee mug so hard Newt was surprise it hadn't already shattered. Sophie looked over at Nate, concern in her eyes again, when he still didn't say anything to the daughter he hadn't seen in close to a decade.

"How long have you been in Boston?" Hardison asked, and Newt reluctantly tore her eyes away from Nate and looked over to the hacker.

"Four years, I think? Something close to that."

"And what do you do?"

"I'm a doctor."

"Really?"

The young man's fingers flew across the keyboard of his laptop, and Newt stifled a groan. She just knew that he was trying to pull up her background information.

"I'm not in any hospital system, so save yourself the trouble. I'm a private physician."

Hardison looked up sheepishly at her, slightly embarrassed at being caught so easily.

"Hon, if you want to be sneaky about doing a background check, you should really wait until the person has left the room."

"Right. So, where should I look for you?"

"You shouldn't. I'm not your client, or your mark. I'm Eliot's friend. That's all you need to know."

Sophie, Hardison and Parker looked at her incredulously, when she didn't even mention Nate. Eliot spared a glance at Nate, and the look on the older man's face suggested that this was exactly what he'd expected. The hurt was visible, but so was the resignation. Eliot didn't know what had caused such a rift between the two, but whatever it was, it must have been massive. This was far more complex than just the fact that Nate hadn't seen her for most of her life. As she'd said, she had a father in Richard Newton, she wasn't lacking for that role model. Something was terribly wrong with this picture, Eliot just couldn't figure out what.

The ringing of a cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and it took a second to realize that it was Newt's phone ringing. She flipped it open without hesitation.

"Andrew?—Is the party over—Julian's back at the house? Yes, you can come back for me now. Twenty minutes? Yes, that's fine."

She flipped the phone shut and looked up at everyone. She ignored the questions practically screaming from Hardison and Sophie's expressions, or the sadness in Nate's. She simply stood and stretched.

"Well, it's been—enlightening—but I really need to go now. I'll see you later, El."

She stretched and picked up her handbag, and to her surprise, Nate had opened the door for her.

"I'll walk you down."

She nodded her acceptance and let him lead her down the stairs. He took her straight into the bar, which wasn't too surprising. What was surprising was that he only ordered coffee. Newt noticed the young woman behind the bar looking at them curiously. Newt thought she remembered this woman. Cora, was it?

"Cora McRory?" she asked Nate after the girl had moved off.

"Yeah. She works here with her dad. So—" he trailed off, as if unsure where to take the conversation from there.

"So."

"Look, I don't know what you know about Eliot, but—"

"Nate, you say one bad word about the man, and my next punch will dislocate your jaw."

"You can do that?"

"Eliot taught me to throw a punch. What do you think?"

He was looking at her, watching her as if she was some strange creature and he didn't know how to react to her.

"Just how well do you know Eliot?"

"Better than you do, Nate."

They fell back into silence, and Nate found the bottom of his coffee cup suddenly interesting. Newt looked at him for a minute, and found herself sighing.

"I'm sorry about Sam."

Nate looked up at her, as if gauging her sincerity. He waved Cora back over, and she refilled his coffee cup.

"So you still talk to Maggie."

"I was at the funeral. And yes, I still talk to Maggie."

Her cell phone rang again, and she looked up to see the limo parked outside.

"That's my ride."

She stood and reached into her handbag, tossing a bill on the table.

"Victoria—"

"Let's not do this tonight, Nate, huh? I really don't want to do this tonight."

Nate nodded, and laid a bill down for his coffee. If he was honest with himself, he really didn't want to have any kind of argument with her tonight, either. Not when he was still nursing his jaw from her earlier punch. If Eliot taught her to throw a punch (and he really needed to talk to Eliot now), he had no doubt that she would dislocate his jaw and not think twice about it.

"Not tonight then."

They nodded to each other, and Newt pushed the bar door open, pausing in the doorway.

"Oh, and Nate? Sophie is nowhere near a sneaky as she thinks she is, but I think I could like her."

"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So so sorry for the delay in updating, but I swear the blasted plot gnomes are ADD. They won't let me focus on one thing at a time. I do promise that I have never abandoned a story and don't intend to start now, so while I might not update as regularly as any of us would like, I won't just ditch it. Reviews are always encouraging, and often helpful in keeping the dang gnomes in check. **

**Disclaimer: Must we really do this every time? I don't own anything you would actually see on the show. Wish I owned Eliot Spencer, but the DVD is the closest I'm coming to that dream. **

"Julian, how the hell did you manage to slice your hand open?" Newt asked, incredulous, as she looked at the gaping wound. Julian wouldn't meet her eyes as he explained that he'd been shaving and the straight razor slipped.

"I've warned you about that razor, Julian. You're lucky you didn't slit your throat. Do both of us a favor and buy a Gillette like normal men before you accidentally pull a Sweeney Todd on yourself."

"You know, Victoria, I would find this concern more touching if I didn't know your concern was for your paycheck."

He winced when she stabbed the needle into his hand slightly harder than necessary. After allowing a minute for the lidocaine to do its work and numb the area, Newt cleaned the wound before carefully stitching it up.

"Damn this is deep, Julian. It almost goes down to the bone."

"I keep the blade sharp. Could you just finish, Victoria? I have a meeting in half an hour, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me five more minutes and you'll be good to go."

"I'm curious about something," Julian said casually after a minute of silence. Newt looked up at him quizzically before returning her attention to her work.

"And what would that be?"

"Your friends from the party the other week. The older man called you his daughter."

Newt froze momentarily before continuing her stitches, ignoring Julian's expectant look. She'd thought he'd forgotten about that, since it had been two weeks and he'd never brought it up.

"Victoria?"

Newt sighed as she finished the stitches and cut the silk, tying off the ends.

"You heard correctly."

When she didn't offer anything more, Julian stood, and flexed his hand. He still had no feeling, due to the lidocaine, but he could curl and uncurl his fingers.

"Good, there doesn't appear to be any nerve damage. Just make sure to keep it dry and clean. If everything heals properly, I should be able to take them out in a week."

She avoided his gaze as she cleaned up the trash, dropping the needle in a sharps container and the bloody gauze and towel in a biohazard bag.

"This won't affect your work in any way, will it?"

That was the truly important question to Julian. If the presence of her father meant she could no longer travel at will, or be available around the clock, they would have a serious problem. Julian's business meant frequent trips out of the country, and middle of the night emergencies. Victoria had to be able to accommodate that. As long as she could continue to do her job, Julian wouldn't concern himself with this father, or her male companion from before.

"Not at all. What he does is nothing to me. I'm going to continue here, like the party never happened."

Julian wondered at that last statement, but shrugged. Unless Victoria chose to confide in him, it wasn't his business.

"Well, I'm off to meet with a client. I should return in a couple of hours. You might want to check over the groundskeepers, I heard some of them saying they felt unwell."

"I'll do that."

Julian left, and Newt grabbed her penlight, thermometer, and stethoscope. Julian's employees, or at least a significant percentage of them, were hesitant to use the clinic. Part of her job was treating everyone who worked on the estate, which meant, when faced with an issue like this, she had to go out onto the grounds and track people down. If they really were ill, she would drag them back to the clinic for testing.

After an hour and a half of tracking down and talking to the grounds keepers, then another hour bullying them into the clinic and running tests, New was ready to call it a day. It was almost five o'clock, which was when she closed the clinic. After five, if it was minor enough that she could get back to treat it, they called her. If it was a major issue, they called 911.

After writing out prescriptions, she handed them to the two men who stood in front of her, blushing and sheepish. One looked furious, while the other looked guilty.

"Now, tell your partners, and no, I don't believe it was the pair of you together, that they need to get treated, immediately. If they work here, I want them in this clinic tomorrow. If they don't, you'd better get them to a doctor before you sleep with them again. Syphilis is not a joke. And next time, use a freakin' condom!"

She ushered the men out of the clinic amid their protests of innocence, but she was too tired to listen. Lordy, how did she end up with such fools? It took a special type of stupid to maintain, even after getting syphilis, that one's girlfriend was a virgin. Although, judging from the look of guilt on the other patient's face, Newt could guess who the girl's previous partner was.

Most likely, the girl was an employee of the estate, which meant two things to Newt. One: the girl had better find her way to the clinic tomorrow. Two: if the girl was truly promiscuous, she would have a blasted epidemic on her hands. She sincerely hoped this didn't end up being the case. Just one more reason why it was a bad idea to date coworkers.

Newt almost wished that she'd been called out to treat injuries, rather than this ridiculousness. At least with an accident she felt like she wasn't just saving morons from their own stupidity. Really, some people just needed to be culled from the gene pool.

The clock chimed five, and Newt loaded up her bag, and slung it on her shoulder as she closed up. Finally, her time was her own. She pulled the door closed behind her, and nearly shrieked in surprise when she found Richard Sanford standing directly in front of her.

"Richard, what are you doing here? Are you injured?"

"Not at all. I just thought I'd see if you wanted to get a drink. We haven't done that in awhile."

Newt sighed, and pushed her way past him. Really, she thought he would have gotten the idea that she wasn't interested by now.

"I don't think so, Richard. I told you before that I just don't feel that way about you."

"How can you say that? We're perfect for each other."

"Richard, I'm sorry, but I truly don't feel that way. And we are so far from perfect for each other it's laughable."

Richard fell in step behind her as she walked off, hoping he would get the hint. Apparently, she wasn't so lucky today.

"You know you weren't saying this six months ago. What's the big change? We had fun, didn't we? Does this have something to do with that guy you're always spending time with?"

"Richard, who I choose to spend my time with is SO not your business."

She wanted to leave it a t that, but Richard insisted on following her as she made her way to the kitchen. The rum she'd ordered from Julian's supplier had come in during the day, and she was eager to pick it up. She'd promised it to Cora McRory in exchange for a bottle of scotch from the bar. Since it was in, her plans for the night were spending it at the pub.

"If you left me for him, I think it is very much my business."

"Here's your bottle, Dr. Newton." Samuel, Julian's head chef, handed her a carefully wrapped bottle, and she took it, handling it just as carefully.

"Thank you so much, Samuel. I appreciate it."

"You're going to eat before you go anywhere, you hear? Mister Julian told me you worked through your lunch break."

Newt smiled at the older man, whose teeth gleamed in sharp contrast to his olive skin. Samuel ruled the kitchen, and by extension everyone who came through it. Newt wanted to slip away, but Julian had already ratted her out. Samuel wouldn't let her out of the kitchen until she had something to eat. He all but pushed her into a seat at the table and set a glass in front of her. 

"I'll have something for you in a minute, doll."

"It's not necessary, Samuel. Dr. Newton and I are going out for dinner."

"Like hell we are, Richard. What part of 'I don't think so' didn't you understand? I'm not going anywhere with you, end of discussion."

Newt glared at the man, who actually dared to try to take her hand. She was not in the mood to be manhandled.

"Stop being ridiculous, Victoria."

"Stop being an asshole, Richard."

And he honestly wondered why she stopped going out with him? Sure, when he'd first asked her out, months ago, Julian hadn't let her turn him down, but she'd given him a chance. He just wasn't anything she was interested in. Maybe if she hadn't gone past the first date, he wouldn't push as much as he was, but Julian had convinced her to give it a chance. Newt cursed herself for listening to Julian. Six months after she finally told the man in no uncertain terms that they would not be going out again, and he acted like she was just playing hard to get.

"I believe Dr. Newton has made herself clear, Mr. Sanford. I would suggest you let go of her hand, now."

Richard glared at Samuel, but finally let go.

"I can see that you're not sure, Victoria. We'll talk again later, yes?"

He left her before she could refuse, and she looked after him, shaking her head.

"I'm beginning to think I need to refer him to a psychiatrist. He is not firing on all cylinders," she muttered to herself.

"You be careful around him, Doctor," Samuel warned her as she set a plate in front of her, "I don't like the way he looks at you."

"Thank you, Samuel. I'm watching him. Although honestly I'm not sure why Julian keeps him on."

"Well, you eat up all that food before you leave here. No one is going to starve on this place."

Newt obediently lifted her fork and started eating. She still had two hours before she was to meet Cora, and Samuel's cooking was preferable to a restaurant, or her own."

"Victoria! Cora told me you were back. Bring yourself over her, and tell met all the latest news. What brings you in?"

"A fifty year old Medford rum in exchange for an eighty year old scotch. Is Cora here, Mr. McRory?"

"Ach, call me John, girl. She's in the back, I'll get her. Have a seat."

Newt took a seat at the bar, while John McRory went off in search of his daughter. They both returned a minute later, a bottle in Cora's hand.

"Here you are, Victoria, and welcome to it," Cora said as she handed the bottle over. Newt accepted it before giving her the bottle of rum. The two stood in conversation for several minutes before Cora was called away by her cell phone. Newt heard the other girl tell her boyfriend that yes, she did have the rum, and bit back a smile.

"Victoria? What are you doing here?"

Newt turned to see Nate standing in the doorway, looking surprised to see her.

"If you're looking for Eliot, he's—"

"I was actually bringing something to Cora McRory, Nate. What brings you down here? I thought you'd quit drinking."

"I- I just needed some peace. Hardison has taken over my space again. May I join you?"

The question was asked hesitantly, as if he already expected her refusal.

"Sure."

Surprised, he sat down at the bar beside her, and was immediately given a steaming cup of coffee. Nate sipped it slowly, enjoying the warmth, as he looked at his daughter. He hadn't seen her, hadn't even tried to call her, since the night he found out she was in Boston. The night she'd come close to breaking his jaw because he'd attacked Eliot.

"So. How've you been?"

It seemed a safe, neutral question.

"Not too bad. I mean, it would be better if my patients weren't spreading STDs, but it could be a lot worse."

"Patients? I thought you were Julian Santiago's personal physician."

Oops. He hadn't meant to say that. He didn't want her to think—

"Why am I not surprised you didn't listen?"

"Victoria, wait. Hardison was already running the check when I got back upstairs that night. I told him to erase it, but then he told me who you work for, and I have to admit, I'm concerned."

"Concerned about what? Julian's a great employer."

"Do you know what he does for a living? He's not an honest man, Victoria. He's—"

"A thief, just like your crew? Come off it, Nate. He deals with stolen goods, but he doesn't actually steal anything himself. And he doesn't deal in weapons, or people. And maybe that's still too immoral for you, but it was exactly what I needed after everything."

"So you've been working for him since…"

"Since Ryan."

"I see."

Newt snorted into her bottle of water. She doubted he really understood, but she didn't feel like arguing it anymore.

"You said you had patients?"

It seemed the safest question to ask, and would steer them away from the elephant in the room. They had reached a fragile peace, one he was reluctant to shatter. Victoria seemed to share the same opinion.

"Yes. I am also available for all of the people who work on Julian's estate. This afternoon I had to track down two employees who'd manage to catch something very unpleasant from the same girl. And the real kicker was that one still maintained that his girlfriend was a virgin. I had to be mistaken."

"No!"

"I'm not kidding. That really takes a special kind of idiot."

"Yes, it does. So, what were you bringing Cora?"

"Rum. Her boyfriend loves it, and she had a bottle of scotch to unload. What is Hardison doing in your condo?"

"A lot of technical computer stuff that I don't understand. Although I think he may have started it just so he can play World of Warcraft on all of those TV's."

Newt laughed as she took a swallow of her water. She had an image of Hardison sitting on Nate's couch, playing the game on all of the TV monitors she'd seen the one time she was there. Mental Hardison was joined by mental Parker, holding a bowl of popcorn as she watched. The only thing that would make it even more amusing would be Eliot forced to sit and watch. Although, after about ten minutes, he would murder Hardison and that would be the end of it.

"You-do you wanna grab dinner or something? I'm buying."

"Oh, um, I already ate."

"No problem."

"Julian's chef wouldn't let me out of the kitchen without eating. But, maybe I could get a rain check?"

Nate was sure his jaw dropped when she actually offered to reschedule. That had to be a first for the pair of them. Maybe they could actually make this work the second go around.

"Look, Victoria, I'm sorry about—"

"Don't, Nate. Just- don't."

"No, I need to say this."

He was interrupted by the ringing of Newt's phone, and she glanced guiltily at him as she answered it.

"Okay, wait a minute, slow down-yes—yes—alright, I'm actually at McRory's. I'll be ready when you get here."

She flipped the phone closed, and stood up, looking to Nate.

"Eliot's on his way, Parker's hurt."

Nate tossed a bill on the bar to pay for his coffee, and all but ran up the stairs, Newt right behind him. Hardison looked up at the intrusion, noting the concern on their faces.

"What happened?"

"Parker's hurt, Eliot's bringing her."

Hardison jumped up from the couch, World of Warcraft forgotten behind him. Newt tucked away the fact that Nate was right about what the younger man had been up here doing.

"Alright, Hardison, I need you to run out to my car, I'm parked downstairs. My medic bag is in the trunk. I need you to get it. Nate, I'm going to need somewhere to check her out."

Hardison all but ran out the door, as Nate hurriedly cleared off the couch. It would be easier if Eliot didn't have to carry her upstairs, and the table just wasn't big enough to use. If they needed a flat surface, the kitchen counters might actually work best, but he thought he'd better wait and see what condition the thief was in.

"Did he say what happened?"

"He didn't. He just sounded pissed."

Hardison returned a few minutes later, and he was followed in by Eliot carrying Parker. Newt did a quick visual scan, and was relieved that nothing looked too serious. Nothing that would require surgery, at any rate. Though stitches weren't out of the question yet, there was a gash on Parker's arm that was bleeding freely.

"Alright, get her on the couch where I can look at her, El. Nate, I'm going to need more light than what you have right here. Any lamp, flashlight, whatever, will be helpful."

Nate and Hardison both scrambled off to find more light, and Newt turned her attention to Eliot and Parker.

"You want to tell me what happened now?"

"I was stupid."

"You weren't stupid, darlin'. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was. I should have known that guy was trouble."

"Parker, darlin', listen to me. It wasn't your fault. I mean it now. It's not your fault."

Newt gently picked up Parker's bleeding arm, and was alarmed to see that her wrist also appeared to be broken. Those looked to be the worst injuries, though, for which she was thankful. It wouldn't be too difficult to treat those here. A glance at Eliot told him that he actually needed her more than Parker did at the moment.

"Okay, Parker, I need you to tell me if you're allergic to any drugs."

"Not that I know of. Why?"

"Because I have to stitch up your arm, and set your wrist, and I'm going to give something to put you to sleep before I do that," Newt answered her as she rummaged around her bag. She emerged successful, holding a syringe and a vial of something. Parker watched, anxiously, as Newt carefully filled the syringe and reached for her arm, which she quickly jerked away.

"I don't want it."

"Too bad, you're getting it. I'm not going to work on you until you're out. I can't risk you moving while I do what I have to do."

"No, you can't knock me out."

Parker was getting upset, and Newt wasn't sure why. She was sure that this would not help her injuries at all, and that it needed to stop. She looked to Eliot.

"Parker, we're gonna be right here, the whole night. Nothing's gonna get you while you sleep. You gotta let Newt do this, so she can fix you up."

His reassurance that he wouldn't let anything happen while she slept seemed to be what she needed, and she allowed Newt to inject the syringe into her arm. Within a couple of minutes, she was unconscious, and Newt turned her attention back to Eliot.

"Alright, let me see that arm."

"Take care of Parker, Newt. You can look at my arm later."

"Parker can wait a few more minutes. You can't. In five more minutes that shoulder will be too swollen to pop back into place. Now stop worrying about Parker for two minutes and let me do what I need to do."

Eliot glared at her, but Newt was not intimidated. She simply raised one eyebrow and looked at him.

"The longer it takes to set your shoulder, the longer Parker has to lay there untreated."

The threat worked, and Eliot sat in the leather chair beside the couch. Nate and Hardison returned with more lamps just in time to hear Eliot yelp and see Newt re-locate his shoulder. With that done, she directed the two on where to set up the additional lights, and turned her attention to the blonde laying on the couch.

The gash on her arm was long, and deep, but Eliot had applied a pressure bandage, so the bleeding was all but stopped. Newt reached back inside her bag and pulled out the scissors, needles and thread, along with several lengths of gauze, and a bottle of disinfectant. A final dig into the bag and she pulled out a pair of latex gloves, and slipped them on.

"If any of you get squeamish, you should leave now. I have to make sure this is clean before I stitch it up, and it may start bleeding again. I don't want to deal with anyone passing out or throwing up on me, understood?"

When no one left, she used the scissors to gently cut off the pressure bandage, and bent to her task. After about a minute, she decided it was entirely too quiet.

"El, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"We'd gone to see some movie she'd been bugging me about for weeks. Once it let out, she wanted a drink, so we stopped at a restaurant, and this guy tried to drag her off. He was more than twice her size. When she fought back, he pushed her into a window, that's how she got sliced up."

"She didn't have anything to drink, did she?" Newt asked, alarmed. The sedative she'd used on Parker was pretty powerful, and was very bad when combined with alcohol. If Eliot had let her give a sedative when he knew—

"Calm down, darlin'. You know I wouldn't let you give her anything if she'd been drinking. She didn't get a chance to."

"I see. And your shoulder?"

"I wasn't about to let him get away with that. He ended up having a friend outside who decided hitting me with his car was a good way to stop me beating the hell out of him."

"Did you re-crack those ribs?"

Nate and Hardison were both looking at Newt in disbelief. For Hardison, it was that she could talk so nonchalantly about such injuries, and their cause, like she did this all the time. For Nate, it made sense. She must have been the doctor who treated Eliot after they got back from Nebraska. Just how well did she know Eliot?

"I think so."

"Alright, I'll wrap them once I'm done with Parker."

Newt finished her stitches, and made a quick job of setting Parker's wrist and splinting it. She quickly checked the woman for other injuries, and was relieved that there were none, apart from some bruising, and a couple of superficial scrapes. Newt disinfected them and put a thin layer of antibiotic ointment on them before bandaging them, and then turned her attention to Eliot as she pulled off her bloodied gloves. Without asking permission, she pulled up his shirt and began feeling his ribcage. She heard Hardison in the background asking if she was suicidal, with Nate telling him to hush. She heard and felt Eliot gasp as she touched a rib that was most definitely cracked.

"You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don't you?" she asked him as she reached back into her bag for a heavy bandages, and started to wrap his ribs, for the second time in a month. Once she was finished, she pulled his shirt back down for him.

"Do you need a shot?"

"Can't give me one right now."

"Alright then, to bed with you. You need to get some sleep. And Parker needs to stay here so I can keep an eye on her while she's sedated."

She looked over to Nate, almost daring him to refuse.

"That's fine. Eliot can take my room, and Hardison, you can put Parker in the spare. Will that work? They're almost beside each other."

"That's perfect."

"I ain't goin' to bed. I promised Parker I'd keep an eye on her," Eliot protested, which was promptly ignored by the others.

"You're getting some sleep, El. I'll stay here tonight."

Not giving him a chance to object, Newt helped Eliot to his feet, keeping an arm around his waist for support as they started up the stairs. Hardison followed them with Parker in his arms. Nate had both beds turned down by the time they made it upstairs, and Eliot made sure that Hardison had Parker tucked in before he let Newt help him into Nate's room.

Once inside Nate's room, Eliot gave up the pretense of being able to walk on his own in such pain, and all but fell into the bed. Newt helped him slip off his shoes and get comfortable, while Nate stood in the doorway watching them.

"Get some sleep, Eliot. You trusted me with Emma; you can trust me with Parker."

Eliot lodged another complaint, but it was not clear. He was already nearly asleep. A high level of constant pain would do that. Newt pulled the blanket up around his shoulders, and turned out the light. Nate was waiting for her in the doorway, and she shooed him out of the way, pulling the door only partially closed.

"Why don't you come back downstairs, and I'll make some coffee."

Newt cast a glance on each of her patients before following Nate back downstairs. Hardison had gone back to his World of Warcraft, a bottle of orange soda at his side. Newt took a seat at the kitchen table as Nate started the coffee maker. It wasn't long before he sat across from her, handing her a steaming mug.

"So, how do you know Eliot?"

"I don't know what Eliot's told you about his past, but I can't-"

"I just want to know how you know him. I can see that you're really close, and I just wondered where that came from."

"He moved next door to me when I was eight. So I've known him for over twenty years."

"And you know what he does."

It was a statement, rather than a question, but Newt could tell that he was trying to figure something out.

"I've been patching him up for over ten years, Nate."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"No. I know him, Nate. Him, not just what he does, so no, it doesn't bother me."

"Are you, uh, you know, sleeping with him?"

Newt looked at him like he'd grown two heads.

"Explain to me how that's any of your business."

She set the mug down, still nearly full, and went back upstairs without another word to Nate. Hardison looked over from his game.

"Nate?"

"Hardison, why don't you just head home? I've got a full house tonight."

Hardison grumbled, but closed out his game and left Nate alone. Nate, his thoughts still on the people upstairs, kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

After about two hours of fitful sleep, Nate was woken by an almost inhuman scream, and he shot up the stairs to his room. He pushed the door completely open to see Eliot crouched in a corner, eyes wild, chest heaving. He was obviously in the middle of a nightmare, or flashback. Nate watched as Victoria slowly approached Eliot, her pace and tone of voice soothing, practiced. She inched her way forward until she was able to touch Eliot, and then she very slowly took his face in her hands. His hands shot up and grabbed her wrists in a tight grip, but she didn't react at all.

"It's just me, El. Come back. It's alright, you can come back now. Come back to me, El." Nate heard her saying softly. She repeated this until the wild light bled out of Eliot's eyes, and he started to look almost normal. His breathing started to even out, until he was aware again. Nate watched, ready to intervene if Eliot so much as move the wrong way. The younger man just buried his head in her shoulder, and she sat on the floor with him, holding him. Nate very quietly backed out of the room, not willing to disturb the pair. They were obviously much closer than he'd even thought. He would have to worry about it later, since right now, Victoria was taking care of the man he'd come to see almost as a son.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So all I can say is that I didn't realize it had been six months since I'd updated this thing, and beg for mercy. I just haven't been able to get my head back into Leverage writing mode, no matter how much I wanted to, and I wasn't satisfied with anything that was coming out. BUT, I was determined to get this out before I went on vacation on Sunday. Hope you guys enjoy. Reviews make me smile **** Oh, and of course, if I actually owned Leverage, would I really be writing this?**

The first thing Eliot noticed when he woke up was that Newt was not with him. This was unusual, in that on the occasions they shared a bed, Newt stayed until he was awake for the day. If for some reason she had to leave, she always let him know. She hadn't done that this time.

The next thing he noticed was that he was not in his apartment, or Newts house. This was Nate's place. And they were there because Parker was hurt. He had to check on Parker. That was probably where Newt was, as well.

Eliot swung himself out of bed and made his way to Nate's spare room, where Parker should still be sleeping. He was surprised to find the room empty. He followed the sound of talking down the stairs and found Nate in the kitchen, pouring himself a mug of coffee. Parker was seated on the couch with Hardison, who was apparently trying to educate her on the merits of World of Warcraft. The two were in deep discussion, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"Oh good, you're up," Nate greeted him, handing him a mug of coffee.

"Where's Newt?"

"She left about an hour ago. Had to get back to work. I told her I'd let you know once you woke up."

That still didn't explain why she just left, unless Nate had herded her out of the apartment. Eliot hadn't missed how uncomfortable Nate seemed with how close he and Newt were.

"Sophie's on her way in. We're going to have to rework the job now. Victoria said Parker's out of commission for at least eight weeks."

"We wait that long, Vasquez'll skip the country. We've only got so long before he gets suspicious."

This new mark had Eliot worried. Not for any discernible reason, but something didn't sit right with him on this one. It wasn't even a particularly dangerous job; all they had to do was retrieve a painting that had been stolen. Their client had refused to sell it to the art gallery owner, and not two days later, her home was broken into and the painting stolen, replaced by a forgery. The police had searched Vasquez's gallery, and home, without finding anything. Nate and the crew had become the woman's last real option.

If Parker wasn't hurt—but Parker was hurt, and there was nothing they could do about it. They would have to find another way to get the painting back, and put Vasquez in jail. Nate just had to figure out how to do it.

"We'll figure it out. You and Victoria seemed really-close-last night."

And there it was. Eliot had just known Nate would say something. \

"You got somethin' to say to me, Nate?"

"I'm just making an observation. She said you were 'friends'"—Eliot snorted at the almost visible air quotes around the word "friends"—"but it looked like more than that, and I just don't think—"

"Think what?"

"That it's a good idea, the two of you."

Eliot took a long drink of his coffee, trying to keep from losing his temper. If Nate said anything about either of them…..

"What, I'm not good enough for her? She's not the right girl for me? Or is it that she deserves someone like those rich assholes from the party? They more along the lines of who you're thinkin' of for her?"

"Nothing like that, Eliot. But—what we do is dangerous. We could get caught, and end up arrested or worse. She deserves to have someone for whom death is not an occupational hazard."

"She knows all that, Nate. She knows what I am, what I've done. Hell, she's been patchin' me up for years. And I really don't see where it's any of your business."

"She's my daughter, Eliot."

"Not to hear her tell it."

Nate actually flinched at that, and Eliot almost felt bad about saying it. Almost. He didn't know why Newt was so antagonistic towards Nate. He knew it had to be a good reason for her to be so—unwilling, he guessed—when it came to Nate.

"You're gonna lecture me about being a parent?"

"No. I'm just tellin' you, she can make up her own mind without any interference from anyone. And nothings gonna push her away faster than you tryin' to dictate to her."

Nate couldn't deny the truth of that. He knew from experience. But he didn't like the idea of Victoria seeing Eliot. He couldn't help it. Still, they had more important things to worry about at the moment, like retrieving the painting for their client.

"Alright. Now about this painting—"

"If you can find out where it is, I can just take it back. Vasquez wouldn't report it."

Nate shook his head. He'd already thought of that, and it would work to a point: if the painting went missing, Vasquez couldn't report it. But he might still go after their client. No, they would have to find a way to make Laurie Williams untouchable, if they couldn't find a way to put Vasquez behind bars. Simply retrieving the painting wouldn't work.

"If we can just find something on him that would stick-"he muttered to himself. He would come up with a plan. That was what he did.

Their discussion, or what was left of it, was interrupted by Hardison yelling at the TV screens. A t some point that Eliot had missed, they had gone from a World of Warcraft discussion to a practical demonstration. It looked as if Parker had just beaten the Hacker at something. Eliot just shook his head at the two of them. Honestly, how old were they? Parker was acting even crazier than usual, and Eliot commented on it.

"Victoria has her on some pretty good pain killers for a couple of days. Not that she really needs the help. We just have to make sure that she doesn't try to climb anything until that wrist is healed."

"Newt should have put her in a plaster cast," was Eliot's comment to that, "there'd be no way she could trying anything then."

"Yeah. Just to be on the safe side, I'd like you to confiscate all of her harnesses and climbing gear."

"That's a start, but letting her out on her own—it's a bad idea, Nate. Think of all the trouble she could get into alone."

"True."

They would have to do something about Parker. Eliot was right, leaving her on her own, with nothing to do, was a bad idea. But they couldn't afford to babysit her, either. Well, Hardison could keep her occupied, if he didn't end up on a location somewhere.

Sophie chose that moment to walk through the door, and Nate forced all thoughts of Victoria and Eliot out of his head and focused on how they could bring down Anthony Vasquez.

Leverage-Leverage

"You didn't come back last night."

Richard Sanford was standing in the doorway of the clinic, and Newt bit back a curse. She should have expected him to show up, she supposed. Still….

"No, I didn't, but I don't see where that's any of your affair."

"Were you with him?"

"With who, Richard?"

"The long haired man you brought home last month. The guy you're sneaking around with behind my back."

It took restraint, but Newt managed not to smack him. She was a healer, after all. She fixed people; she didn't hurt them. She was seriously starting to reconsider that.

"Richard, how many times do I have to tell you before you finally understand? We're not together! I can't sneak around behind your back, because there is no us! I don't want you. Not that way."

"I don't believe that."

"Then you're delusional, and I'll refer you to a psychiatrist."

She didn't like sounding as mean and bitchy as she knew she sounded, but if he was going to be deliberately obtuse, she was going to get mean. It had been a terribly long night, watching over both Parker and Eliot, and she was exhausted. She was running on caffeine and sheer willpower, which meant she was already in a foul mood.

Eliot's nightmares had grown worse. At least, it seemed that way when he woke up three times with no idea where he was, trapped somewhere in his past. She didn't care that he sometimes took awhile to come out of it. She didn't care that he almost broke her nose with a well placed fist once when he lashed out. What she did care about was the fact that all of that meant that she got very little sleep. She was bitchy when she didn't get her sleep.

"Look, Richard, I just don't know how to be any clearer than I have been. We are not a couple. There is no us. I don't want you, and that's not going to change. Who I spend time with is none of your business in any way, shape, or form. Good afternoon, Richard."

There's not much he can say against the obvious dismissal, so he left, most unwillingly. Newt turned her attention back to the patient chart she'd been updating, grimacing at the headache that was setting in. She really needed to get some sleep tonight. She didn't look up until she heard another knock on her door, and saw Julian standing in the doorway.

"My day just gets better and better," she mumbled to herself, "Did you need something, Julian?"

Julian smiled at her as he sauntered in.

"What did you do to Richard? He left here looking quite agitated."

"Yes, well, he's a moron. I had to explain to him, yet again, that we are not a couple and never will be. I may have been slightly les than civil while doing so. I should never have let you talk me into going out with him."

"You hadn't been on a date in five years, Victoria. You were spending every night alone in your loft, if you weren't out with me."

"What are you my mother now?"

"Is this because of Spencer?"

"It has nothing to do with Eliot, and—"

She froze. She'd never introduced the two men. How did Julian know who he was?

"Don't look so surprised, Victoria. A man like Eliot Spencer is on the radar of anyone who does what I do. Imagine my surprise when I saw him on my security camera, entering your loft."

"Yeah, well, um—"

Newt trailed off, not sure what to say. She didn't know if they had a history, but if they did, well, she really didn't want to bring it up. Julian just smiled at her, which wasn't terribly reassuring.

'How long have you known him?"

"Long before I came to work here."

"How long?"

"Since I was eight. That long enough for you?"

"Relax, Victoria. As long as his interest here is entirely—personal—rather than professional, we're good."

"Is this really what you came here for?"

The smile widened as Newt glared at him, and she contemplated smacking him in the back of the head. If he didn't give a reason for being here, she was ready to cause injury. She wasn't in the mood for his baiting.

"Actually, it's not. I'm hosting a client tonight, and I need you to be here."

"And why is that?"

"He's bringing his girlfriend along, and I need you to entertain her while we talk business."

Her eyes narrowed. He wanted her to play hostess to some girl while he conducted his business?

"Julian, I'm your doctor, not your call girl."

"Cocktails at eight."

"You really need to find yourself a girlfriend!" She called after him as he left the clinic. She could hear his laughter down the hallway. Damn. And she'd planned on getting to bed early. Well, she had three hours between closing and cocktails. She could certainly catch a nap.

The sharp knocking roused Newt from her sleep, and she looked blearily at the clock. She was shocked to see that it was already 8:30. Her alarm hadn't woken her up.

"Victoria?"

Julian was knocking. That was bad, as he would be pissed that he had to come and get her. But it could have been worse: it could have been Richard. She wouldn't put it past him to come by, if he was to be at this meeting as well.

"I'm coming!"

She rolled out of the bed and practically sprinted for the door, before he could pound on it again. Her head hurt, and the pounding didn't help. She wished she could blow Julian off, but then she'd just have to hear about it the next day.

"You look terrible," he commented when she got the door open. She glared at him.

"Give me ten minutes, and I'll be there."

She shut the door in his face, and hurried through getting ready. At least a few of her cocktail dresses were clean. She pulled out a sapphire dress that fell just above her knees, making it more modest than most of Julian's dates. There wasn't time to do much with her hair, so she just combed through the major tangles, pulled the top back and let the rest hang loose. It would have to be good enough. A lightly tinted moisturizer, a touch of mascara and lip stain, and she was out her door. She walked into the parlor precisely ten minutes later, a smile plastered on her face to greet a man and woman she'd never met before in her life.

"At last. Anthony Vasquez, Giselle, meet Doctor Victoria Newton."

Giselle? The girls name was really Giselle? And no last name? Judging from the fact that she was so thin Newt could practically count her ribs, she had to guess the girl was a model. She could only hope this Giselle wasn't as vapid as the last model she'd met at one of Julian's dinners. Newt had met some very intelligent models before, through Julian, and she had nothing against the profession, if the model was genuinely healthy at so small a size. But the models most of Julian's clients brought with them were, well, Newt had met better.

"A doctor? Really?"

"Such beauty, wasted on the injured or ill."

Julian grabbed the wine glass out of Newt's hand when she started squeezing it so hard her knuckles turned white, afraid she might actually shatter it.

"Don't lose your temper, Victoria. Not over a man already a few drinks in."

"If he grabs my ass, I make no promises."

"So, Giselle, where did you meet Mr. Vasquez?"

The girl had been silent through most of the dinner, likely due to the fact that whenever she did say something, Vasquez glared at her. The entire dinner had been a miserable affair. Anthony Vasquez had come close to having his foot broken or needed his testicles retrieved on more than one occasion. He seemed to have a major problem distinguishing between Newt and his girlfriend, and his foot kept finding her leg under the table. The fact that his eyes seemed glued to her cleavage didn't improve her opinion of him, either. Julian had gotten the two women out of the room as quickly as he could, knowing that the look on Victoria's face meant she was fast losing her restraint.

"Oh, we met at a car show. I was one of the models who stood on the platform with the car."

No wonder Vasquez hadn't wanted the girl to speak. Newt was certain she'd never heard a more backwoods country accent in her life. Even Eliot didn't have as strong an accent as "Giselle".

"He offered to buy me a drink, and next thing I know I'm out of my dinky little closet in L.A. and travelin' the world! It's like a fairy tale or somethin'."

"Where are you from, Giselle?"

"You can call me Ginny. Giselle's just my modelin' name. I like how it kinda sounds so far away. Anyway, I'm from Cherry Lick, Mississippi."

Newt managed to keep a straight face, but just barely. She didn't want to laugh at the girl who seemed to be genuinely sweet, if a trifle naïve.

"I can't believe you're really a doctor. I used to think I might be a vet, but I had problems with school, and had to leave."

She didn't elaborate, and Newt didn't feel it was her place to ask.

"You know, Ginny, you can always go back to school," she commented as she conducted the girl down the hallway, starting a tour of the house. It was interesting, looking at the house through the eyes of someone who'd never seen it before. Daily exposure to the expensive furnishings and priceless works of art had made her more or less immune to it.

"I couldn't do that. I don't have the time, any more. Anthony's so busy all the time, and he likes to have me with him. We're goin' to Spain next week!"

"That should be nice. I've never been to Spain."

She'd wanted to. She would have, if Ryan hadn't—well, she wasn't going to think about that now. For now, she still had a guest to entertain, and the she really should get over and check on Eliot, and Parker.

The rest of the house was just as impressive to the young woman from Cherry Lick, Mississippi as the first floor was, and they were able to tour the entire building before Julian was done with his meeting. Ginny appeared most impressed with the indoor swimming pool.

"You can go swimmin' even in the winter! And it doesn't smell like bleach!"

"Julian uses a salt system. It's a lot easier on the skin."

"You must love livin' here. I can't see how you would ever wanna leave."

"There you are," Newt was prevented from having to answer by the appearance of Julian and Vasquez.

"Here we are. Have you finished your meeting?"

The question was directed at Julian, Vasquez was still staring at her as if she was a shiny new toy, and Ginny didn't appear to notice. Newt almost pitied the girl for staying with a man who behaved with such obvious disregard for her, but it was a choice the girl had made. If she hoped that Ginny would come to her senses and leave the man, well, that wasn't anything she was going to admit out loud.

"We're finished."

"Good."

"It's time to go then?" Ginny asked, of no one in particular, and Newt could just see Anthony Vasquez rolling his eyes.

"Yes, it's time to go."

Vasquez couldn't leave soon enough for Newt, but she was rather sorry to see Ginny leave with him. She didn't like the man. Not one bit.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ginny. Perhaps we'll run into each other again."

"That'd be so nice!"

The farewells were short as Vasquez quickly herded Ginny into the waiting car. Julian and Newt stood in the driveway, waving them off, until they were out of sight.

"Alright, get out of here, Victoria."

"Huh?"

"It's Friday night, and you don't have to be back until Monday, so get out of here. Go see your friend, or get some sleep, or something, but unless there's an emergency, I don't want to see your face in the clinic for two days. You look like hell."


	6. Shamless plug for oneshot

Okay, this isn't an actual chapter update, but I promise I'm working on it. This is just to let everyone know that a Christmas event with Newt and Eliot popped into my head, and since it didn't fit in with this timeline, my first ever one-shot is posted on its own, with the clever title of Eliot/Newt Christmas. And on that note, I'm debating whether to do something New Years as well, and that will really depend on what everyone thinks of this one. So review, and let me know if I should follow up on it.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/n: So, I hope everyone enjoyed my little Christmas one-shot. I've never written something so short before. Please consider this the official disclaimer for the rest of the story, because I'm just tired of restating what we already know: I don't own Leverage. I own the DVD's, which means I get to watch Eliot whenever I feel like it, and I own the plot. That's it. Period. Exclamation Point. Reviews are love!**

Newt rolled over and looked at the clock. 1 pm. Oh hell. She never meant to sleep that late, it threw her off the rest of the weekend. Now she would be up all night. Where was she anyway? Oh, right. She'd come home after leaving the estate and checking up on Parker. She had vague memories of Eliot putting her into his truck and bringing her over, and even vaguer memories of him putting her to bed.

Newt smiled when she sat up, and saw what she was wearing. Ever the gentleman, Eliot. He'd stopped at getting her out of the dress and those ridiculous heels. He'd elected to leave her in her slip rather than put her in pajamas.

Her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten in over twelve hours, and she was dressed and on her way to the kitchen in short order. She couldn't say she was terribly surprised to see Parker in her kitchen, but she was surprised to see the other woman eating cereal. Newt was pretty sure she hadn't stocked any cereal in the cabinets.

"You're up! Finally!"

"Um, not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here, Parker?"

"We brought your car back, and Eliot told me to keep you company 'til you woke up. Oh, and he said if you didn't eat something he would force feed you like you're two years old."

"And where is Eliot?" she asked as she opened her refrigerator, and saw that Eliot had left her a tray of lasagna. She cut a generous slice and put it in the microwave, and returned to her search for caffeine.

"He said he'd be back in about an hour. He didn't tell me where he went."

That meant he probably went back to his own place, and didn't want Parker to follow him. Or he was off somewhere he didn't want the rest of his team to know about. Either way, it didn't really matter, unless he came back bruised and bloody. Newt finally found a soda in the fridge, and pulled out her silverware and napkin just as the microwave beeped. She set everything on the table and pulled out her lasagna, giving it a minute to cool before she dug in. She really was ravenous.

She was surprised that Parker managed to wait until she finished eating before practically dragging her out of the kitchen, demanding the long-promised tour of the house. The blonde took everything in, picking up little knick-knacks and examining them before setting them back down. Newt showed her everything except Eliot's room, warning her that she faced bodily injury if she went in there. Eliot was unhappy enough just letting Parker in the house. If he caught her in his room, well, it was just better all around for Parker to stay out.

"So, what was wrong with you last night? You were pretty out of it."

"Exhaustion. I spent the night looking after you and Eliot, and then had to put in a full day at the clinic."

That made sense, but…

"You were all dressed up last night."

"Oh. I had to sit through dinner with one of Julian's clients."

"Oh. Hardison thought maybe you were cheating on Eliot."

Seriously? Okay, she might have to re-think letting them think what they would about she and Eliot. If Hardison said something to Eliot, which she was sure he did, Eliot would have been pissed.

"—but he figured it was only fair, given the number of times Eliot's probably cheated on you, and—oh shiny tomato! I shouldn't have said that. 'Cause just because Eliot talks to a lot of women, that doesn't mean he's actually cheating on you, and you know I haven't seen him going off with anyone since he lived with you, so really I don't think he is, and—"

"Parker! Stop. Breathe. And just for the record, Eliot and I aren't dating, so if he's going off with other women, he's not cheating on me. It's okay."

The blonde didn't look convinced, but it didn't really matter. Eliot chose that moment to come back. He looked between the two women, and appeared to think better of whatever he was going to say.

"You finally decided to wake up, huh? Did you eat something?"

"I had a brick of lasagna. Thanks for the ride last night, by the way."

"No problem. We need to head back over to Nate's, though. You gonna stay awake enough for this?"

For what? What had she missed last night, in her exhaustion? She was reasonably certain that she hadn't agreed to be part of any theft, but you never knew. She could have promised to swim naked in Boston Harbor for all she could actually remember.

"You're gonna have to fill me in, El. I don't remember a thing from last night."

Eliot just smirked at her, as if she'd confirmed his suspicions. She looked around for something to throw at him, but they were standing in a hallway, and there was nothing within reach. Parker reached over and smacked him in the back of the head.

"Damn it, Parker! What the hell was that for?" He asked as he rubbed his head.

"She wasn't cheating on you, so you don't get to be mean to her!"

Eliot looked to Newt for an explanation. Why would Parker think Newt was cheating on him? Where did that make sense?

"Yeah, um, about that. It's a little—yeah, I've got nothin'."

"You know what? Never mind. Let's just get over to Nate's."

L-L

"Alright, Hardison, what have you found for us?"

Newt sat on the couch, curling into Eliot as she sipped the coffee Nate handed her. Why was she here again? Not that she had any objection to using Eliot as a pillow, but they could have done that at home, without having Nate glare in their direction every time he looked over at them.

"Unfortunately, not much that's helpful. The security system at Vasquez's house is pretty sophisticated, and he has cameras everywhere. To make things worse, the system is completely in-house, so I can't hack into it without actually being there. And I can't just walk in there. This man is paranoid, like, even his pool boy who's there every day has to go through security, paranoid. He has guards patrolling twenty-four hours a day."

"Alright, so there's not going to be any easy way to do this. Now, he's already met Victoria, so that's potentially a way in. We need to figure out how to work this without raising his suspicions."

Since when did she agree to be a part of this?

"Yeah, he's leaving the country in less than a week, and if I see that man again I might just have to break his neck, so that's not going to help you."

That got everyone's attention, and she almost wished she'd just kept her mouth shut.

"You know for a fact that he's leaving the country in less than a week?"

She nodded.

"And you know this from dinner last night?"

How did he know that? Had she said something about that last night? Was that why she was here?

"Yes, I know that from dinner last night. Why is this important?"

Nate ignored her question as he turned to stare back at the screens, which showed security schematics along with a floor plan of the house.

"Why are you after this douche bag again?" Newt asked Eliot while Nate and Sophie started discussing possible cons among themselves.

"He stole a painting from our client after she refused to sell it."

"What painting?"

"Hey Hardison, put that painting back up on the screen."

After a few clicks of the mouse, the painting was back up on the screen. She knew that painting. A lost Degas. Vasquez had left it with Julian but he'd sworn that it was actually a legal purchase, but then claimed the original buyer backed out, and he didn't have anyone else who could take it off his hands. Julian had complained about it, because he didn't have a buyer lined up for it. He'd even asked her if she wanted it for the loft. Lovely. Now she really hated Anthony Vasquez. And they just wanted the painting back?

Eliot looked at her questioningly when she stood up, but she just waved him off. She was fine. She just had a phone call to make. When she returned, Nate and Sophie had moved from discussion to outright argument. Hardison was attempting to interrupt them and bring them back to focus; Parker was watching, entertained; while Eliot was leaning his head back on the couch, his eyes closed. Newt had to wonder if anyone else thought they sounded like an old married couple. It brought back memories of Nate and Maggie arguing.

"Do we really have to be here for this?" she asked Eliot, as she burrowed into his chest and closed her eyes. She was so exhausted. His only response was a brief grin.

"Sophie, we really don't have time for anything else, if the man is leaving in a week. We have to move, and this is our best shot."

Eliot sat up straight when they stopped arguing. Newt didn't bother to move, so it was somewhat awkward when he tried to move.

"Do you really have to do that here?"

Nate was glaring daggers at Eliot, but Newt only held on tighter when he tried to move her. She was NOT giving up her pillow just because Nate Ford had a problem with it. If he wanted her functional for this then he darn well should have waited until she'd caught up on her sleep.

"Leave them alone, Nate. You've got bigger things to worry about."

"Right. Okay. We know that Vasquez will be gone in less than a week, so we need to move now. According to Victoria, he's something of a womanizer, so Sophie, it shouldn't be too hard for you to get his attention, and you can distract him while Eliot gets into his house and locates the painting. Hardison, we'll need to find some way to get eyes inside the house before we go in."

"Nate, you really don't have to do that—"Newt began, but Nate ignored her as he spouted more orders. Hardison was looking at the older man as if he'd grown a second head.

"Nate, what part of 'not hackable' was unclear? This man has more security than Nicky Mosconi did. We can't get in there without physically getting in."

"It's really not necessary to go to Vasquez's house," she tried again, only to be ignored for a second time.

"Well we have to do something, Hardison. We can't send Eliot in there blind."

Newt nudged Eliot as Nate started raising his voice.

"Eliot, be an angel and inform Nate that that painting isn't in Julian Vasquez's house. I can't take much more of this."

Nate stopped mid-sentence and turned to stare at her.

"The painting's not with Vasquez. You know this for a fact?"

She nodded.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What do you think I've been trying to say for the last minute, Nate? If you weren't so in love with the sound of your own voice and actually listened for once, you would have heard me."

All of them were staring at her now, and Eliot tightened his hold on her arm. This had all the signs of turning into quite a match between the two, and he didn't particularly want to go that route. Not when he would be the one who'd have to pull her off of Nate if she decided to get physical. What the hell happened between them?

"Do you know where it is?" Nate asked after making a visible effort to not react to the words she flung at him.

"Currently? It's in my loft at Julian's estate. I can have it over here tomorrow."

"You have it?"

"I have it."

"And how did you get this painting?"

"How do you think? Julian gave it to me. I can swing by the estate and pick it up tomorrow."

The room burst into a flurry of excited voices. She heard Hardison asking why all their cases couldn't be this easy, but Nate was shaking his head.

"We still have to get Vasquez. Hardison, start working on an ID for Sophie."

"What?"—Sophie

"You can't be serious!"—Hardison

"Nate, just take the win on this one."—Eliot

"Look, our client is not the first person that Anthony Vasquez has done this to. We have to put him behind bars. That's our job, and we're going to do it. Now Hardison, start working on an ID for Sophie. It needs to be something that will get Vasquez's attention."

Without a word to anyone, Newt stood up and walked out. No one but Eliot noticed until they heard the door slam shut.

"Just take the damn painting Nate," Eliot shot at him as he got up and followed her out the door. He didn't make it out the door, however, as Newt stormed right back in, fury written in every line of her face.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Nathan Ford?"

"What?"

"You are not the master of the damn universe! Your job was to get the painting that was stolen from your client, and guess what; you have the opportunity to do that without risking any of your team and you want to ignore it because of your ego? Because you're the great Nate Ford, and you're so much better and smarter than Vasquez that you have to put him behind bars? No! I'm not having any part of that, so you'd better decide which is more important to you: getting Anthony Vasquez or returning that painting to your client. Because if you go after him, you can kiss any chance of getting that painting goodbye."

"Victoria, this is not a discussion."

"No, it's not. It's a decision. You give your client back her painting and leave Vasquez alone, or you explain to her why she'll never see it again. Vasquez isn't the only person you'd ruin by taking him down, and I refuse to sit by and watch that happen!"

"Julian Santiago is a criminal, and anyone dumb enough to associate with him deserves to be taken down with him!"

The resounding slap echoed through the silent room, and as Nate raised a hand to his face, he realized just what he'd said.

"I didn't mean that," he tried to explain to Newt's retreating back. "Victoria, I didn't mean-!"

This time when the door slammed, it stayed shut. Nate looked to the floor, gingerly rotating his jaw.

"Eliot, if you could ask her to bring the painting tomorrow, we won't go after Vasquez."

Eliot glared at the older man, the set of his eyes promising trouble as he issued his warning.

"Nate, I will not see that girl hurt again. Not after having to put her back together. So you'd better think long and hard about what the hell you're doing, because if you hurt her, I will break you."

Eliot's leaving was much quieter, which only made it more threatening. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that he meant every word he said.

L-L

"Newt!" He caught up with her as she was walking down the road. It had taken a few minutes of driving before he spotted her, she must have taken off at a run. He pulled the truck to a stop beside her and opened the passenger door. The tears she was wiping off as she climbed into the passenger seat told him just how angry she was: it took a lot of pain or a lot of anger to make Victoria Newton cry. Eliot wisely didn't comment, he just pulled back out into traffic and drove back to the house. She would talk when she calmed down.

When they reached the house and she showed no signs of calming down, Eliot steered her into the house, and after grabbing two pairs of gloves, out into the back yard. He shoulder was still sore, but if the woman didn't let off some steam she could end up really hurting someone, and he didn't want that someone to be anybody but him, or maybe Nate. He tossed her a pair of gloves before slipping on his own. He really wasn't surprised when the force of her punch knocked him back a few steps. He hadn't paid as much attention as he should have. He countered the next blow, and in the space of a few minutes, they were sparring in earnest.

Eliot let her vent out her anger, careful not to lose control. It was a fine line, but it wasn't the first time he'd done it. He considered it the least he could do for all the times she patched him up. They continued for several minutes before Newt finally tired herself out and called it quits. She gave Eliot back the gloves and let him steer her back inside, and onto the couch. He left for the kitchen, returning a minute later with two glasses of water, handing one to her as he seated himself.

"You ready to tell me what that was about?"

Newt snorted into her glass.

"You mean apart from the fact that Nate just said I deserved to go down just for being Julian's doctor?"

"I'm not—Anthony Vasquez isn't the only one who'd lose if he went to jail. I met his girlfriend last night, and that poor girl—she has to be one of the sweetest people I've ever met, and I liked her. All she wanted to do was get out of her tiny little hick town, and she did it. But now she is completely dependent on Vasquez and if Nate took him down, it would be worse than death for that girl to have to go back to what she was before, and I won't be responsible for that. Not to mention all the other honest people who just work for him."

Eliot had to think about that one for a minute. She was right; Anthony Vasquez wouldn't be the only one hurt if they took him down. Most of the time they never thought about that. To be honest, most of the time it wasn't an issue. Bering Aerospace didn't collapse just because Victor Dubenich went to jail. The people who worked for that Castleman security company who tried to steal billions weren't honest; they were just as deep into it as their employer. And that asshole Rutgers, well, the guys at his gym were much better off without him. This would be the first time that Eliot could remember that more innocent people would be hurt than helped by their actions.

"You wouldn't be responsible for that, darlin'. Nate would. He would go after this guy whether you'd met him or not."

"It would be my responsibility, because you guys would go after him based on what I told you. And maybe Vasquez does deserve to go to jail, and maybe he is a criminal, but I know that I went to someone just like him when I needed to get away, and that girl deserves the same chance."

"Alright. If you wanna get the painting tomorrow, Nate's agreed not to go after Vasquez."

"Do you trust him to leave it alone if I give him the painting?"

"He keeps his word, Newt."

"Alright then."


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: So, apologies for how long it's taken me to update this. I just haven't been able to keep this one in my mind long enough to spin out another chapter when I have four other stories running around in there at the same time. Reviews are love, and inspirational when I can't really focus. Hint. Hint.**

Newt looked around her desk, pulling up patient files, trying to find the phone. The ringing had startled her from the medical journal she was reading, and now she had no idea where it actually was. It was Eliot, and he never called during the day unless there was some kind of emergency. She knew their job last night had been a disappointment. Someone had gotten to the painting they were stealing before they did (and what was with this crew and paintings, anyway?). Instead of art stolen from Jews during the holocaust, they had a painting of dogs playing poker. Not exactly the same thing.

"El? What's going on?"

"Sophie needs to get checked out."

"I'm off in two hours. If it's urgent, take her to a hospital."

"She can wait; just come over to Nate's when you get off, okay?"

"What happened?"

"Just come over, okay?"

"Alright."

He broke the connection, which worried her just slightly. Eliot was worried about something, and that was never good. And he was asking her to come over to Nate's, when she'd avoided that place (along with its resident) like the plague for the last seven weeks. She passed her last two hours with thoughts filled of possible reasons for Eliot's mood, none of which were comforting. She closed up the clinic more quickly than she ever had before, and by 5:05 was in her car and on the road to town.

McRory's was bustling when she walked past the door, but she didn't bother with going in. She hurried up the stairs, medic bag in hand, to knock on Nate's door. Parker opened the door to let her in, and she saw Sophie sitting on the sofa, mug of tea in hand, trembling slightly. She looked like she had gone into a mild shock.

"What happened?" She asked as she pulled out her stethoscope, and slipped a thermometer under the woman's tongue.

"Someone tried to kill her."

Nate's voice was strangled, and Newt briefly looked up at him before looking to Eliot for an explanation. He was the only one who looked calm enough to give her the details she needed. She expected that the others weren't used to having someone actively try to kill them.

"Someone delivered a bomb in a vase of flowers."

"Did it go off?"

"She made it out of the apartment before it went off, but she got pretty banged up in the hallway from the explosion."

"I'll bet." Newt muttered to herself as she pulled out the thermometer: 98.6 degrees. Good.

"Alright Sophie, take deep breaths for me."

She listened as the grifter breathed deeply, exhaling sharply. Her heartbeat was somewhat erratic, but the deep breathing was calming her down, so Newt wasn't too worried about it. She put the stethoscope away and pulled out her penlight, shining it in Sophie's eyes. Her responses were all what they should be. A brief physical exam showed nothing more than bruises, and likely pulled muscles. Newt couldn't feel any fractures, and Sophie wasn't in the type of pain a broken bone would cause.

"I'm not feeling anything, so I'm reasonably certain you're just banged up. We can take x-rays if you want, but we'll need to go out to the estate for that."

"No, I'm alright, just a bit shaken."

Her voice was steady; that was a good sign. Newt couldn't find anything physically wrong with the woman, so she would have to agree with her.

"I'd say a glass of wine and a good night's sleep is about the best that can be done for you. I can give you a painkiller if it really hurts."

She didn't have anything that would be considered light in her bag, not since she packed it with Eliot in mind. She'd learned long ago that he would always downplay just how bad the pain was, so she always had the strong stuff on hand. She didn't really want to give Sophie anything strong if she wasn't in a lot of pain.

"No, it's minor. I'll be fine with that glass of wine, and maybe a nice hot soak in a whirlpool. If someone could drop me at a hotel that would be great."

The chorus of objections from the rest of the group immediately vetoed that suggestion.

"Whoever did this could try again at a hotel," was Nate's final word when Sophie objected to their objections.

"Well I'm not staying here. I wouldn't get a moment's peace. I have more than one ID; I'll just use an alias."

"Uh huh. How many ID's do you have right now?"

"I have at least half a dozen at home, so-"

Sophie trailed off as the truth sunk in. She didn't have any ID on her; they were all at the apartment that was now a charred shell. She couldn't even book a hotel room for herself right now.

"You know what? Never mind that. Hardison can hack into a hotel and book a room for me, so why don't you get on that, Hardison?"

"We're not letting you go to an unprotected hotel, Sophie. It's not gonna happen. Not when we don't know who was behind this in the first place."

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I'll be fine. Everyone thinks I'm dead."

"You don't know that. You don't even know who it is that just tried to kill you. You're not going to a hotel."

Sophie looked around for support from the rest of the group, but none was forthcoming. In this case even Newt agreed with Nate: going out when they didn't know who was behind the bomb, or whether they were still watching out for signs Sophie was alive was a bad idea.

In the end, it was agreed that Sophie would go to a safe house, and Eliot would stay with her. Once that was decided, Newt was rather disturbed to hear them making funeral plans. She understood wanting to find out who was behind it, she could even understand the train of thought that said they would probably show up at a funeral, to make certain the dead person was actually dead, but really, it was just macabre.

L-L-L-L-L-L

"I take it back. This IS the most disturbing thing I've ever had to watch," Newt complained as Sophie/Catherine's casket was lowered into the ground. Not only was it a funeral, but an open casket one at that. She'd actually had to walk by that thing, with Sophie lying inside pretending to be dead. It was just so wrong, on so many levels. And then to top it off, the dead woman was walking around, and whining about the mourners, or lack thereof.

"Okay, El? She does realize that anyone looking to make sure she's dead is going to notice that she's walking around, right?"

Eliot looked over to see Sophie talking to Nate, and bit back a curse. Sometimes he wasn't sure who was crazier: Parker or Sophie. Then again, ever since that guy dumped her, she'd been acting strange. The Hunter job came to mind, when Sophie was in charge and almost blew the entire con by pushing the woman too hard. He got it: breakups were hard (not that he'd really ever been on the receiving end of that), but you didn't drag that kind of crap into the job. It was too dangerous for everybody else.

"Yeah, well, she's not exactly rational lately."

"I heard that, Eliot," Sophie's voice came through the ear bud indignantly. He'd almost forgotten he had it in as he scanned the crowd for anyone who screamed "threat".

"Good."

Just because Nate was tiptoeing around the issue of how strange Sophie was acting, that didn't mean that Eliot was going to follow suit. The woman was a runaway train going the wrong direction on the track, and he could just see the wreck at the end. His job was to keep wrecks from happening. Maybe it was time to send Sophie on a few days' vacation.

"Alright guys, let's pack it in. I think we've seen everything there is to see."

"You gonna come back with us?" Eliot asked Newt as the others started heading off. She watched them go, and shook her head.

"I'm gonna head back to the estate."

Eliot didn't like it. She'd done a good job of ignoring everyone but him ever since that night. What Nate said was almost unforgivable, and he understood that better than anyone, but she was cutting herself off from the others, and Parker was hurt over it, even if she didn't show it. And he knew that Newt liked Parker.

"You know, some day you're gonna have to tell me what he did."

He'd asked before, but she'd brushed it off, and managed to change the subject. It wasn't like her to do that. They didn't keep secrets from each other.

"Trust me, El. You don't want to know the answer to that. I'll see you later."

"Newt—"

"And wear that hat when you come over," she called over her shoulder as she walked off, leaving Eliot to stare after her. When things calmed down, he was sitting Nate down for a long talk. Whatever happened between father and daughter must have been bad, and he needed to know what it was.

L-L-L-L-L-L

"I know who it is."

Well, that certainly got his attention. Sophie knew who'd just tried to kill her? Good. He could take care of it then.

"Marcus Stark."

The others exchanged blank looks. Eliot couldn't say he'd ever heard about Marcus Stark. From the look on Nate's face, it was news to him that he'd chased Sophie and Stark, not just Sophie. He didn't look too happy about it.

"They do one smaller job first just to work out the kinks in the team. This was just bad luck."

So the Klimt was stolen as a practice run. That was just wonderful. Now they would have to steal a Van Gogh. And they would have to do it without Sophie, since she was "dead", and do it before Stark and his team got to it. Yeah. That didn't have disaster written all over it.

He hated being right.

L-L-L-L-L-L

"Please tell me you got photos of Eliot in a hat."

Newt grinned at the photos she did actually have already loaded onto her laptop. She'd seen the man in uniform, in a suit, even in a tux (Emma's wedding came to mind), but it was the first time she'd ever seen him in that hat. It really was priceless.

"Of course I did, Maggie. I'll email them to you."

"Do that. So was it a nice funeral?"

"You know, apparently I'm the only one who thought that burying Sophie was completely twisted. And I'm sending photos to your inbox now."

She hit the "send" button and sent photos flying through cyberspace. It had been awhile since she'd spoken to Maggie. She didn't think they'd spoken since the conversation after Maggie found out A: just how charming Eliot Spencer could be, and B: just what IYS did (or more precisely, didn't do) for her son. That had been an awkward discussion. It was slightly disconcerting to realize that your ex-stepmother had had an almost date with your Eliot. And for her to realize that she'd had an almost date with your Eliot. Not to mention learning that she'd been working for the assholes who let her son die to increase a bottom line.

"You weren't kidding about the hat," was the only comment Maggie made.

"I know, right?"

Newt turned at the knock on her door.

"Hold on a second Maggie."

She stretched as she pushed back her chair and headed for the door, wondering who it could be. It was 10:30 on a Saturday night, and she wasn't on call. Julian would have used the phone, not just shown up. She briefly entertained the idea that maybe Nate had gotten Parker to show him where she lived, but dismissed it.

"Eliot?"

It was Eliot, and he had a woman she didn't recognize leaning heavily against him.

"Maggie, I'm gonna have to call you back."

She ended the call as she stepped back to let them inside.

"Thanks Newt. I couldn't exactly get to my key."

"Sure thing, just get her in here."

The woman looked from her to Eliot curiously, and if Newt wasn't mistaken, a bit possessively. She was blatantly curious, but Newt didn't feel the need to indulge her. She was more concerned with the large gash on the woman's arm, and the bandage that was now stained red.

"Take a seat on the couch, I'll get my stuff. El, you want to tell me what happened?" she asked as she walked down the hallway to the closet where she kept her medic bag. When she didn't get an answer, she looked up at them, and she could swear he was blushing.

"Eliot?"

Yes, that was definitely a blush. The woman now seated on the couch was wearing a smirk, even as she cradled her arm. Newt wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

"Alright then, let's start smaller. Do you have a name?"

"Raquel."

A simple, one word answer. This could get tedious very quickly.

"Alright, Raquel. I'm Victoria. Do you mind telling me how you managed to slice your arm open?" She asked as she pulled on her gloves and very carefully pulled back the bandage. Raquel winced, only slightly, as the gauze caught on the open wound and started blood flowing again.

"It was a—a miscalculation in just how much strain the headboard could take."

Headboard? Now she really didn't want to know. Still, a part of her wanted to reach out and smack Eliot in the back of the head. If he was going to engage in that kind of strenuous sexual activity, he really should make sure his bed was strong enough to handle it.

"You broke the headboard?"

A sheepish glance in the opposite direction was answer enough. Newt just shook her head as she prepped a syringe with an anesthetic.

"Are you allergic to any medications?"

"No."

"Good. I'm injecting you with lidocaine, which will numb the area, so that I can stitch it closed," she explained as she lifted the arm to apply the drug. She got the impression that the woman wouldn't react well to simply being stuck with a needle. Raquel nodded her permission, and it was done in seconds. Newt quickly went to work sponging away the blood that had welled up and making sure the wound was clean before she started stitching. She ignored the bruising around the woman's wrists that suggested restraints had been a little too tight. It wouldn't surprise her to learn that Eliot had his kinks like everyone else, but she didn't want those mental images.

"Just so you know, El, I'm gonna start charging you if you start bringing me these kinds of patients."

"Don't worry, Victoria. This was a—how you say?—one time thing. I leave for Prague tomorrow, and he'll be all yours."

Her head shot up at that. Eliot, all hers? She didn't know what to make of that, or what Raquel seemed to think they were. Eliot was no help, either, as he looked nearly as confused as she felt.

"You do good work," Raquel commented as she inspected her now stitched arm. Newt busied herself with putting away her supplies, and setting the bloody needle and scissors on a coaster to deal with later. After Eliot's one night stand was gone. And just why did this bother her so much? It wasn't like she didn't know that Eliot was no virgin.

"I should hope so, since I've been patching him up for years."

"He said you were excellent. He wasn't exaggerating. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Just make sure to keep it dry for the next week, and the stitches should dissolve by then. Do you need any pain medication? I can write a prescription for you."

"No need."

Newt nodded, wondering what else she could say that wouldn't sound like a blatant dismissal. Raquel saved her from filling the silence with a simple nod of her head and an exit out the door. Eliot stayed only a minute longer, opening his mouth and closing it more than once before settling for a sheepish smirk, following the woman out the door.

Newt locked the door behind her, and turned to cleaning up the blood that had escaped the bandage, and dispose of the needle. The scissors she would sterilize. Her thoughts as she settled on the couch with her new book were on Eliot, and just how much she would start charging him if he made a habit of bringing his flings to her to get patched up. Breaking the headboard? Really?


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, this is starting to go in a completely different direction than it started out in my head. This gives me a couple of options, and I'm interested in hearing reader's opinions. If I keep it they way it looks to go, this could potentially carry over through the third season, and probably get a bit darker than it originally would be. Otherwise, I can try to get it back on track with where I was originally going, and it will be ended in no more than four or five more chapters. I could at this point go either way. I need opinions on how long this should go. Leave a review and weigh in!**

"This woman! I swear to- she's-!"

"Is there going to be a complete sentence in there anywhere, El?"

Newt looked over at Eliot, who looked as though he might have some sort of attack at any moment. She didn't know what exactly he was talking about, but he was pissed.

"That damn woman came in posing as our client's attorney! And she's a friggin' grifter!"

"Wait a minute. Some woman tried to con your client?"

She couldn't imagine that went over well.

"Nah. That would be one thing. But no, Sophie sent her, to 'help us out'. She left us, and then she sent in this, this-there's not even a word for her! She's—"

"I think I get it, El. Now sit down before you hurt yourself."

He threw her an evil look, but sat down on the couch, after grabbing a beer from the fridge. She took his free hand and started carefully checking his fingers. He'd been popping them like he was trying to forcibly dislocate them.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but the last time someone else who shall remain nameless tried to pull a con he ended up tangled with Russians and came close to getting himself killed, didn't he?"

Eliot snorted. He couldn't exactly argue with that—he'd had to go after Hardison after the man decided to take credit for Parker's work and convince a failing jeweler that he was a world-class thief. And to top it all off, he'd made Eliot play a mute. He'd deserved whatever he got just for that stunt, but no, they had to get him out of it.

"Then maybe you guys do need some slightly more professional help. And if Sophie sent her, how bad can she really be?"

"She's an unknown. And she's not playing too well with the others. Nate doesn't like her."

Newt snorted, and started combing her fingers through his hair in a soothing pattern.

"You don't exactly play well with others yourself, honey. And of course Nate won't like her; he wants Sophie to come back. None of that changes the fact that you need a grifter who can play a role without almost getting themselves killed."

"This fashion week thing is—I think it's the worst idea Nate ever had."

"Aw, c'mon. You look good in leather pants. And you should wear red more often."

Eliot glared at Newt. He'd already put up with Hardison's teasing this morning, saying he looked like Steven Segal. And he'd heard Tara's Steven Tyler comment. He didn't need it from Newt, too.

"I mean it. You look hot, El. Especially with your hair down."

"You think so?"

Newt bit back a laugh. The last thing she'd expected when she got back from a working trip to London was that she'd have to reassure Eliot of his physical appeal. It completely made up for the fact that she was missing sleep in order to do so, and the fact that she'd just spent two days in London during what had to be the thickest fog of the season. Not that she regretted the chance to buy a new Burberry coat, but still. Time zone changes were a bitch.

"I think so. Now why don't you get back to work, and let me get some sleep."

"You go to sleep now and you're going to be really off tomorrow."

"I'll take the chance. Now get out of here. Go play the slightly gay assistant to the fashionista."

Eliot glared at her as he stood up, practically dumping her off the couch and onto the floor.

"You know what? Just for that, you can cook your own supper tonight."

"You wouldn't really do that to me, would you? I thought you didn't want me to get food poisoning?"

When he left without a comment, Newt finally released the laughter she'd fought to hold inside. He would be pissed when he found out that she managed to catch him on her camera phone, but the photos were too good to pass up. She would have to save them for when she really needed blackmail material.

Now that he was gone, she could hear her bed calling her name. Julian wasn't expecting her back before tomorrow, and it was much easier to nap away from the estate. And damn it, she deserved a peaceful nap after spending two days in semi-close quarters with Richard Sanford and not killing him. Anticipating several hours of uninterrupted sleep, Newt slipped off her shoes and set her phone on its charger. It was time for some much needed rest.

The sharp ring of the doorbell halted her progress to her bedroom, and she bit back a curse. She debated ignoring it, but whoever was on the other side gave up on the doorbell and was now pounding on the door. She had the feeling that they weren't just going to go away, and was starting to regret coming back to her house instead of just staying at the loft. Someone had better be severely injured or sick. If not, they would be when she got done with them.

She jerked the door open to see a man she didn't recognize. That didn't help her current mood.

"Who the hell are you, and what do you want?"

"Are you Victoria Newton?"

The accent was British, and just on the wrong side of condescendingly smug.

"That's Dr. Newton to you, Mr.—"

"Sterling. James Sterling."

She knew that name. She might lack the working synapses to remember how she knew that name right this moment, but she was certain that she did. The man was unfamiliar: face too round, nose that looked like it had been broken at some point in time, in need of a shave with a receding hairline. No, she didn't recognize him.

"May I come in?"

"You can state your compelling reason for keeping me from getting some sleep before I break your nose, and then you can leave."

"I see Eliot Spencer's famous charm has rubbed off on you."

The grin was smug, almost cat-that-ate-the-canary smug. Newt almost, ALMOST gave in to the urge to wipe that damn grin off the man's face. Wait a minute. How did this man know about Eliot?

Newt stepped back, and allowed him to step inside, which he did with a smirk, and closed the door behind him. Alarm bells were going off in her head as she turned the deadbolt. She remembered the name Sterling. Jim Sterling was the reason that Eliot and the others had to leave LA. And he'd worked at IYS with Nate. He was with the damn company that let Sam die.

"Can I get you a drink, Mr. Sterling?"

"Water would be fine. You have a charming home, Dr. Newton."

Newt left him in the living room and walked into the kitchen. She glanced through the opening under the cabinets, and saw that he was looking around in what appeared to be genuine curiosity.

"Thank you."

She made a big production of filling a glass with ice and then water, allowing the noise to mask the sound as she removed one of the smaller butcher knives from the rack. She carefully slipped into the back pocket of her jeans, hoping that the padding of the material would prevent it from slicing her open before she needed to use it (and as an afterthought, hoping that she wouldn't need to use it). Considering what she'd heard about this man, she wouldn't put it past him to try to use her to get to Eliot. Smiling brightly, she returned to the living room, keeping Sterling in her sight as she handed him the glass of ice water.

"You still haven't answered my question, Mr. Sterling. What are you doing here?"

"I work for IYS insurance company. I'm here about a painting."

"A painting?"

"Yes. A Degas was stolen from a woman, and then it was miraculously returned to her."

"That sounds like quite a stroke of luck for the woman. But it doesn't explain your presence here."

"But it does actually, Ms. Newton. You see, this isn't the first time a painting has been stolen. There's been a rash of thefts lately. And some of the other paintings that have gone missing were insured by IYS. Needless to say, my company wasn't very pleased about that—"

"I'm sure. God forbid they should actually have to pay a legitimate insurance claim," she interrupted him, already ready to call bullshit on his story and get him the hell out of her house.

"—so I was sent to investigate," he continued as if there had never been any interruption. "Imagine my surprise when I speak to Ms. Rhodes and learn that the painting had been returned to her by one Nate Ford."

He looked up sharply at her, as if he was trying to catch her reaction. Newt simply stared at him as if to say "and your point is?"

"I was quite surprised to learn that Nate Ford was in Boston. And of course, where Nate Ford is, so is his little group of thieves. So I look a little closer, and sure enough, I find Eliot Spencer. And I find that that-miracle of miracles- Spencer's not the man whore I always thought he was, but that he actually had a significant other. And that woman turns out to be the personal physician to one Julian Santiago, a man my company has been after for years. "

"Well done, Mr. Sterling," Newt interjected as the man stopped speaking to take a sip of his water. "That was an incredibly long speech in which you managed to say absolutely nothing of importance. If you have a point, I suggest you make it soon. My patience is very limited today."

He looked surprised at her attitude, but swallowed his water and set his glass back down.

"Now, I have to ask myself, what was so special about this one painting, that it was returned when so many others were stolen and never seen again? And it occurred to me, that the only thing special about this painting was the fact that Nate Ford had it. So then the question becomes, where did he get it? I know he didn't steal it himself, since he considers himself some sort of Robin Hood. No, he got it from someone. And I'm dead certain that I'm looking at her right now. The only question that remains is why you gave him that painting to return to Ms. Rhodes after the man you work for stole it. And I found that answer when I ran a simple background check on you: Victoria Elizabeth Newton, born Victoria Elizabeth Ford. Daughter of Carol Walker and Nathan Ford, adopted by Alexander Newton after his marriage to your mother when you were three. So you finally connected with dear old dad."

Well, he'd actually managed to come to a somewhat logical, if absolutely incorrect, conclusion. She would give him points for that. But really, he was either supremely stupid, knowing what he did about Eliot and thinking what he did about the pair of them, or supremely arrogant. Either way, she didn't really feel like suffering his presence any longer.

"Make your point, Mr. Sterling. You obviously came here for a reason, so why don't you tell me what it is and then get the hell out?"

"I want Julian Santiago. He's the man behind several claims that IYS has had to pay out, and I'm going to see that he's put behind bars. And you're going to help me get him."

Newt actually laughed at that.

"You know, I thought you were an arrogant ass, but now I see that you're just delusional. Good day, Mr. Sterling. You can show yourself out."

She took the glass from his hand and made her way back to the kitchen. And froze at his next statement as she set the glass in the sink.

"There are a number of countries who are very interested in the whereabouts of Eliot Spencer. All it will take is a single phone call and a number of very bad men will descend on this house in less than twenty-four hours. So you're going to help me take down Julian Santiago, if you want your little boyfriend to stay alive and well and in this country."

It was almost a reflex for Newt to throw the knife that imbedded itself into the wall only inches from Jim Sterling's head. The man hadn't just threatened Eliot, he'd threatened her home. She didn't take a threat to either of those things lightly.

"I would consider your next words very carefully, Mr. Sterling."

He looked apprehensively from the knife back to her, then back to the knife again, before schooling his expression into one of complete indifference.

"There's also a sister, if I understand correctly. And a five year old nephew. While I might not resort to such nasty actions to accomplish my goals, I can't say the same for the people that Mr. Spencer has managed to piss off. It would be a real shame if anything happened to them. He really is an adorable child."

He certainly didn't expect the woman to fly at him and pin him against the wall with her elbow in his throat when he made that statement. It was more effective than he thought, until he realized he couldn't breathe.

"I'm not sure what survival instinct you lack, Mr. Sterling, to make a threat against anyone Eliot Spencer holds dear, but I promise you: if you so much as think about going after Emma and Chris, if Eliot doesn't kill you, I will. If you have any sense of self-preservation left, which I take leave to doubt, you will walk out this door, and forget you ever heard the name Victoria Newton, or that there is any connection between me and Eliot Spencer. Now get the hell out of my home."

She let him go, and he took a moment to straighten his suit, before pulling out a business card.

"I'm staying at the InterContinental Hotel. Call me when you change your mind."

She made no move to take it, so he set it on the table by the door as he let himself out. Newt waited until she was gone before she sank onto the couch as the shaking set in. She wasn't sure she'd ever been so angry in her life. She needed to call Eliot; he needed to know that this man was after him.

L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L

"What!"

Sterling was a dead man. That was it. Newt was scared; he could hear it in her voice. Sterling was dead.

"I'll take care of it darlin'."

Eliot hung up the phone and stuck his ear bud back in as he slipped into the factory office. Sterling was going to die for threatening Newt, Emma and Chris, but that was an issue to deal with later. After they found out why someone just tried to blow up the Pans, and Nate and Parker. He started digging through the papers on the desk.

"Alright, they made a lot of calls to this same number—"

What the hell was Tara doing here?

"Tell him it's a Shanghai area code!" she was yelling in his ear. He winced as the ear bud distorted in his ear.

"They pick up, you don't have to yell."

"Eliot, Tara, get out of there now," Nate order came through. He immediately stepped out the door, Tara on his heels. They were stopped by the Chinese in suits filing into the room, cleavers in hand. Great.

"Cleavers. Haven't done that in awhile."

He led Tara through the aisles of irons and clothes. He didn't want to be in the open when they came at him. Here they could only come at him one at a time, which gave him a much better shot of getting himself and Tara out of this alive.

What the hell? Tara'd lost her mind. He couldn't afford to pay much attention to her as the first of the group came at him, and he had to focus on not getting sliced to pieces. He did notice that she actually took out the man who'd gone after her. Maybe she wasn't completely useless then. At least she seemed to have more experience taking care of herself than the others did.

….And now there were men with guns. This day just kept getting better. Surprise, surprise, one of them was Russell Pan, or Nicholas Chow, or whatever the hell his name was. They really did just steal money from the Chinese Triads. This could get messy. Nate had better just give the man back his money.

"Well, the money's gone."

What the-? No. No no no no no. No way was Nate going to try to run a con on the Triad. He couldn't actually be that suicidal. And now Tara was volunteering to stay as collateral until they returned with designs? How the hell was he supposed to get them all out of this one?

L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L

James Sterling was nodding off. It was nearly 11:00 pm, and though he'd been up waiting for the Newton woman to call him, he couldn't keep the need for sleep away any more. He was disappointed: he'd expected her to call him by now. His threats weren't subtle, and they weren't meant to be. He was going to get Julian Santiago, but her help would certainly make that task easier, and if he had to threaten everyone she cared about, he would do it. He was ready to be done with IYS. He had his eye on Interpol. Plus, he just really hated Eliot Spencer. He might just have to tip off the Myanmar government after he got Santiago anyway.

The knock on his door interrupted his trek to his bed. Funny, he wasn't expecting anyone. Unless Newton decided to come by rather than call….nah, it wouldn't be that easy. Immediately suspicious, he made sure that the chain was latched before looking out the peephole. He didn't recognize the young woman who was standing outside, but she was wearing the hotel uniform.

"Who is it?"

"The concierge sent me, sir. An envelope was delivered for you downstairs."

"Just slide it under the door."

"I'm afraid it's too large to fit, sir."

Now he was curious. He'd ordered the office to send over his entire file on Julian Santiago, but he didn't think it would arrive so soon. Not even with overnight express delivery. He carefully unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to the extent the chain allowed.

"I'll take it."

The young woman, whose nametag read "Mandy", slipped the envelope through the door to him. He told her to wait while he set it down and searched for his wallet to give her a tip. It was only a moment before he returned, and handed her a $10 bill.

"Have a good evening, sir."

He just nodded at her as he shut the door and locked it again. The envelope didn't have any sort of postage, or address on it, which meant it had been hand delivered, not couriered. Sinking into the chair beside the table, he grabbed the letter open and sliced through the thin paper. A pile of photographs slid out, and he felt an intense sinking in the pit of his stomach as he looked through the photos of his parents, his brothers, sisters-in-law, and niece and nephews. And they were all recent photos. Oh God, there was even one of his little girl, in England. How did anyone ever even find out about her? A small white card with a four digit number hastily scrawled on it slipped out from among the many photos, and he recognized it as an in-house extension. With trembling hands, he picked up the phone and pushed in the number. It was answered on the second ring.

"I assume you got my note."

Oh shit.

"You have my attention."

"If you want to come after me Sterling, then you come after me. If you want to make this personal, then you take a good look at those pictures, and remember that I know where every single member of your family lives."

Damn. He'd completely misjudged Victoria Newton. He'd counted on her being determined to do whatever was necessary to keep Spencer safe, after watching them and observing how close they were. He never expected that she would actually tell Spencer he was after him.

"It's not personal, Spencer. It's business."

"You go near her again, or go after any of my family, and I will take everyone you care about away from you, starting with that little girl of yours. And then I come after you. And I'll remind you of exactly what I used to do before I started working with Ford."

"I understand."

"And Sterling, I'll know if you don't listen to me."

The connection was cut before he could even attempt to formulate an answer, and he set the handset back in the receiver. He looked at the photos once more before burying his head in his hands. Spencer was serious.


	10. Chapter 9

**WARNING: This is probably the most emotional chapter in the entire story. You might need a hankie or two.**

The funeral service had been a very somber affair: a large number of mourners, clad in black, both filled the chapel and the interment. John McRory would be very much missed, by a very large percentage of the Irish population in Boston. The only thing missing, in Newt's opinion, were the professional mourners, whose wailing could put a Banshee to shame. Never mind, that was the funeral in Scotland last year.

The wake, on the other hand, promised to be a most active, and enjoyable affair. Tonight the drinks would flow, the stories swapped, and the songs sung until the alcohol was gone. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a poker game or two.

It was snowing lightly by the time they made it to the bar, but Newt wasn't too worried about it. Eliot's apartment was within walking distance if they couldn't drive; she would just crash there for the night. She wasn't expected back at the estate until the morning.

Newt cursed when her phone rang, and the number came up as Julian's. She nodded to Eliot, telling him she'd catch up, before she answered it. Julian's tone was terse as he informed her that a car was coming to pick her up.

"I just got to the wake, Julian. Can it wait until morning?"

She ended the call after she was ordered to be ready, now worried. Julian never used that tone with her. Not once in seven years had he ever sounded so pissed off, and apparently at her. She hastily gave her condolences to Cora, and made her excuses to Eliot and Parker, and made it back outside just as the limo pulled up. The snow was already falling more heavily; if this took too long, she wouldn't be making it back tonight.

"Andrew, do you have any idea what this is about?" she asked as she climbed into the car and buckled her seatbelt.

"I couldn't say, Miss," was Andrew's only response.

It was the "Miss" that startled her. Andrew only ever called her "Dr. Newton" as he insisted was proper for his employer's personal physician, no matter how many times she told him he could use her given name. It was her first real clue that something was wrong.

The drive back to the estate was made in an uncomfortable silence, one she was all to eager to get away from. She was out of the limo almost before it was parked. The door was opened for her as she reached the top of the steps, and she was directed to Julian's office.

She half expected to see Julian passed out, or with some sort of serious injury, from his tone when he called her. Newt had used the entire ride from the bar to cover every possible scenario that would require her leaving a wake, when she wasn't even supposed to be on call. She definitely didn't expect to see Julian seated at his desk, looking furious but completely healthy.

"I'm so glad you could finally join us, Dr. Newton."

Okay, and he was definitely pissed off at her. She wondered what it was she was supposed to have done, before she realized they weren't alone in the room. Julian's attorney was sitting in one of the chairs near the desk.

"Well, Julian, you did just pull me out of a wake. Good evening, Lewis."

"Good evening, Victoria," the other man greeted her. She was certain the chill in the room had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature, especially when Julian didn't even ask her to sit down.

"Do you know where I've been all afternoon, doctor?"

"And how would I know that, Julian?"

"I've been a guest of the FBI, courtesy of the Boston Police Department. Lewis only just posted my bond."

Newt looked to the attorney for confirmation, and that man nodded his head.

"That's awful. What happened?"

It certainly explained why Julian was so angry. He didn't take kindly to the police looking into his businesses, and getting arrested and questioned by the FBI would be so much worse. But it still didn't explain what that had to do with her, or why it warranted her leaving a wake.

"They were tipped off to some of Julian's more-questionable-business dealings. They had a number of questions for him," Lewis explained while Julian just glared at her.

"That wasn't a questioning, it was an interrogation. And the timing isn't lost on me."

"I'm sorry, timing?"

"Yes," Julian finally directed at her, "I was dragged into an interrogation about a stolen Degas only weeks after I give it to you. What did you do with it, Victoria? The painting I took from Vasquez?"

He was this angry over a painting? A stolen painting that he'd been foolish enough to accept from Vasquez without question, and without having a buyer waiting for it? She was starting to get a little angry herself. This was something that could have easily been hashed out without interrupting all of her plans for the night.

"I gave it back to the woman Vasquez stole it from."

"You mean you gave it back to Nathan Ford."

The question, if it could be called that, came from Lewis, who was frowning.

"Yes, I gave it to Nate. He'd been hired to get it back from Vasquez, and since you gave it to me, it seemed the simplest way to get rid of it, without getting anyone else under the police radar."

If he wanted to get mad at her for finding a solution to a piece that was only going to cause problems for everyone, she wouldn't hesitate to let him have it. He might not know that she'd done it to keep Nate from looking further into causing problems for him, but that didn't mean she was just going to take this animosity.

"How long has this been going on?"

"How long has what been going on?"

"Don't play games with me, Victoria! I've been operating in Boston without so much as a murmur from the police for four years, and now, only months after you bring Eliot Spencer into this house, I'm pulled in for questioning?!"

"What does Eliot Spencer have to do with your getting picked up by the police?"

"Julian, perhaps this is a conversation best had after tempers cool. I don't see anything useful in pursuing this tonight," Lewis attempted to intervene when it became obvious that the two people with him where heading for a massive argument. "It's been a trying day for everyone. Let's just continue this tomorrow, hmm?"

"No!" They both yelled simultaneously.

"No, we settle this tonight," Julian spat out at Victoria.

"You know, Julian, it sounds like you're trying to make some sort of accusation, and I really wish you'd just come out with whatever you're trying to say."

"He's not making any accusation, Victoria," Lewis said placatingly.

"Then why am I here?"

The attorney didn't have a response to that, but the look he sent to his client warned the other man to be careful in what he said.

"You're here because I know what Eliot Spencer does, and how much time you spend with him, and it's too convenient that -"

"It's too convenient that I've known Eliot Spencer almost my whole life? ! What do you think, that a hardened criminal was behind my choice to return stolen property back to it's owner? Next you're going to tell me that you think Ford was behind the whole thing and I helped him set you up!"

The black look on his face, and the fact that Lewis wouldn't meet her eyes, sent a jolt through her, and she couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The betrayal couldn't have felt worse had he physically struck her.

"Oh God," she whispered, "you really believe that."

She stumbled back a step as her knees threatened to buckle. After everything she'd done-he really believed that of her? The horrified look on her face must have convinced Julian he was mistaken.

"Victoria, I-"

"No. You-"

"I'm sorry, Victoria. I-"

She cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. She didn't think she could take any sort of excuse right now. She fought back the tears threatening to spill out. The bastard wouldn't make her cry.

"Seven years, Julian. I've been your doctor, your friend, your fucking date! And this is your opinion of me?"

The room was beginning to spin, and the nauseating feeling settling in made it difficult to draw a breath. She needed to get out the room, and quickly.

"Lewis was right. I can't do this tonight. I'm going to my loft. We can hash this out in the morning."

She spun on her heel and headed for the door, but was stopped by Julian.

"Don't go to the loft, Victoria. Stay in the blue room tonight."

"Why can't I go to the loft?"

He didn't answer immediately, so she turned around to face him.

"Why can't I go to the loft, Julian?"

"Your belongings have been…," he trailed off at the look on her face, realizing how the statement would sound. Just when she thought the night couldn't get any worse.

"You already packed up my stuff?"

How could he do that? How could he throw away everything they'd been through for the last seven years? Newt paled as she realized that her world had just fallen to pieces, and they couldn't be put back together.

"You really didn't doubt for a minute that I did it, did you?"

"Victoria, I-"

"How could your opinion of me get so low, Julian?"

What had she done that could make him think she was capable of turning on someone like that? After so many years of being not only a doctor, but a confessor, and an alibi, covering so much more than she really could under doctor/patient confidentiality. Of taking care of not just him, but all the people who worked for him, and even the people he had his business dealings with. How could he not trust her? She swallowed hard, her decision made.

"Very well. You'll have my resignation in the morning."

To her surprise, she was actually able to say that without a tremor. If anything, she knew she sounded emotionless. That statement spurred the previously immobile man at the desk into moving, and he shot from his chair.

"You don't have to do that, Victoria. I don't want you to go."

She shook her head.

"Isn't that why I was brought here? Are you really going to tell me that I wasn't pulled in here to be fired when you thought I'd set you up? Why else would you have packed up my things before even giving me a chance to defend myself?"

She picked up her purse from the floor where she had dropped it in her shock, which she only just noticed.

"Victoria, I'm sorry. But what was I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to think better of me."

Newt left the room before the tears could fall, and hurried out the front door, ignoring Julian's calls for her to come back. The car wasn't waiting, as she'd expected it to be, but she didn't let that stop her. She ignored the few people she encountered as she ran, almost unseeing, around to the garage.

Car choice didn't matter; so long as it would get her the hell away from here, it would serve its purpose. With that in mind, Newt grabbed the first keys her fingers landed on in the case, and hit the button to unlock the doors. The tail lights of the Mustang flashed in time with the beep, and she sprinted as best she could in her heels. She wasted no time in getting her seatbelt on and tearing out of the garage, speeding past both Julian and Lewis standing on the steps, calling after her to stop.

L-L-L-L-L-L-L

Eliot stepped out of the bar and took a moment to simply stand in the night air, ignoring the snow around him. He still could hardly take in the fact that they had not only run The Wire in an hour and a half, but also managed to run another game on the damned Irishman who was robbing desperate people blind that had him out of the country for good, if he had any sense. And Cora McRory, the pretty little redhead Nate had given him a warning about, brought them a drink on the house for saving the bar. He would have to see that girl again, if for no other reason than to give Nate a hard time.

He frowned when he saw what time it was. Newt had been gone longer than he was comfortable with, considering that she hadn't called him. And he didn't get why Santiago didn't just go to the hospital. If was really that serious a situation he would just end up there anyway. If he didn't hear from her within the next half hour, he was calling her.

Nate was drinking tonight. That was concerning, on a number of levels, but most importantly the fact that he took more risks with the teams safety when he drank. Eliot wanted to think that it was just for tonight, that Nate only drank because he had to for the con, but he didn't think they were that lucky. He'd seen addicts before, and he knew it only took one hit to get them right back where they'd been before.

The insistent ringing of his cell phone intruded into his thoughts, and he patted his pockets until he found it. He recognized the number calling him, but he had no idea why Alex was calling him.

"Hello?"

"Spencer, what the hell happened?!"

Oh God. Something must've happened to Newt. If there was some sort of emergency, Alex was her emergency contact.

"What happened?"

"That's what I'm asking you, damn it! What the hell did Ford do to her this time!?"

That was when he realized that Alex didn't sound alarmed, or worried. He sounded pissed. The kind of pissed off that meant the person it was directed at was in for a lot of trouble, and it was directed at Nate.

"Nate didn't do anything to her, Alex. She's been gone to work for two hours. Did she call you?"

"Then you tell me why the hell I got a phone call telling me she's leaving Boston and asking me to get her ticket on the first flight out! Are you going to tell me he had nothing to do with that?"

"She did what?!"

That had to be a mistake. Newt wouldn't just take off like that. Something bad must have happened at Julian's tonight. She enjoyed her job too much to just quit the place. If that damned Richard Sanford had tried to push her too far again, Eliot would rip the man's arms off and beat him to death with them.

"You heard me, Spencer! Now you tell Ford from me that I don't care that this time nobody died. If he does anything to hurt her again no one will ever find his body."

"Alex, slow down a minute. Do you know where she is?"

If there had been some kind of blow-up at the estate, he knew she wouldn't stay there. What he didn't know was whether she'd go to her house, his apartment, or directly to the airport, if she'd decided she had to leave. He wasn't even sure just how she'd get anywhere, considering that she hadn't driven out to the mansion in the first place, but he didn't doubt that she'd find some way to leave. He would have to find her, and soon, before she could do something hasty.

"I don't know where she was headed."

"Alright. I gotta go, but I'm gonna find out what's going on here."

He hung up before the other man could say anything and dialed Newt's phone. It rang several times before going to her voice mail. Growling, he ended the call and slipped his ear bud back in.

"Hardison."

"What? No, man, I know you're not calling me for something after you refused to come help me clean up this mess. That ain't right, and I ain't doin' it."

"Damn it, Hardison, shut up for a minute! I need you to track a phone for me, and I need you to do it now."

"Oh, hell no. You better call-"

"Hardison!"

Something in the tone of his voice got through to the young hacker, because he shut up.

"Listen to me real close. Newt is off somewhere, and I have to find her, now. So you're going to track her phone for me, and tell me where she is, or the next time I see you I will break every bone in your hands."

It didn't take long after that before Eliot was on his way to his truck, with Hardison giving him direction. As he made turn after turn, he started to feel slightly better, as he realized he was getting closer to his apartment. Thank God she wasn't at the airport, or she might have just bought a ticket herself on the first flight going anywhere. It would be a bitch to try to find her if she took off.

She wasn't sitting on the steps, so he looked around. With the code to the building changing recently, she wouldn't be able to just walk in. He saw the silver Mustang parked, but clearly still running. That had to be her. She must have taken one of Julian's cars. Eliot parked beside the car and climbed out of his truck, glancing through the windows. The windows were slightly obscured from the heater that was obviously running, but there was no mistaking that hair.

"I got her Hardison. Thanks."

He took the ear bud out of his ear before placing the call to Alex that he'd found her. He kept it short and to the point, so that he could get to Newt quickly, but he owed the extremely worried father a courtesy call to let him know that his daughter was found. As soon as he relayed that small bit of information he hung up, and made his way around to the Mustang's driver side door. It wasn't even locked, which he made a mental note to lecture her for later, but at the moment he was just thankful that he wouldn't have to destroy such a nice car to get her out of it.

He knocked on the window before opening the door, startling her. She was crying when she threw herself into his arms. Julian was going to die, once he found out what he did to her, but that wasn't his worry right now. He pulled the crying woman out of the car and hoisted her into his arms, kicking the door closed behind him. It was fortunate that someone from his floor was coming out as he was trying to get in, and held the door open for them. He didn't put her down until he got her into his apartment, and he could sit down on the couch with her.

"What happened, darlin'?"

She poured out the story, and he let her cry it out until there were no tears left. When he finally felt he could move without her falling onto the floor, he gently detached himself and walked into the kitchen that took up most of the floor plan, and came back out with a glass filled with an amber liquid, and handed it to her as he sat back down.

"Drink this."

She took it, draining it without question. It would almost worry him, how much like Nate she was when it came to drinking, but he knew how rarely she actually had alcohol, unless she was at a social function, and then it was only a sip or two of wine.

"Thanks, El."

"I'll take care of this, darlin'."

She shook her head, violently.

"I'm not going back."

"No you're not."

He would get her stuff himself. She wasn't going anywhere near the Santiago estate again unless she wanted to beat the shit out of Julian herself, but he doubted she would. He kind of hoped she wouldn't; he wanted to do it.

"Come on, let's get you to bed."

She could probably do with a hot shower, but there were lines Eliot didn't cross, and that was one of them. Hopefully a good nights sleep would cut it for tonight. She let him pull her to her feet, and lead her back to the bedroom. He tossed her a pair of sleep pants and t-shirt, then pushed her into the bathroom to change while he pulled back the covers. When she came out, he put her into bed.

"I've gotta go out for awhile. I'll be back, just get some sleep."

She nodded, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes were already drifting shut when he pulled the door closed. He had some place he needed to be.

L-L-L-L-L-L-L

Nate was just getting ready for bed when he heard the pounding on the door. He debated ignoring it, then heard the door opening, with Eliot storming in.

"Eliot, what's wrong?"

He probably shouldn't have had that last drink, if the look on Eliot's face was anything to go by.

"Look, if this is about the drinks, I'm not going off the wagon, it was just for the-"

"Tell me you didn't set up Julian Santiago."

"What?"

He was confused.

"I told you that I would not see that girl hurt again, so tell me that you didn't set up Julian Santiago."

"What? Of course I didn't set him up. What is this about, Eliot?"

Eliot stared at the man, who looked more than a little drunk. How many damn drinks did that man have after they left him in the bar? He looked Nate in the eye.

"Look at me, Nate."

He waited until he had the squinting man's attention.

"Now tell me, honestly, that you had nothing to do with Julian Santiago getting picked up by the cops and questioned today."

Nate blinked a few times, trying to focus on the infuriated hitter. He wasn't sure what Julian Santiago had to do with anything, but he could honestly say that he'd stayed away. He believed the younger man when he said that if Victoria got hurt, he would destroy the person responsible, and he wasn't suicidal by any means.

"I had nothing to do with Julian Santiago getting arrested today. You want to tell me what this is about?"

Eliot cursed. At least if it had been Nate, he would have known what the hell was going on, even if he had to break the man. Now he had no idea who was behind this.

"Santiago thinks you were behind his arrest this afternoon. He called Newt in tonight to accuse her of helping you set him up."

"Oh God. Is she alright?"

'I've got her at my place. She was pretty upset. You swear you had nothing to do with it?"

"I swear."

"Good."

Eliot turned to leave, but stopped as a thought occurred to him.

"Who died?"

Nate looked at him for a moment, as if trying to think clearly, before giving up.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Alex told me to tell you that he didn't care if THIS time no one died. Who died last time?"

He had a sneaking suspicion, but he hoped to God that he was wrong. He sincerely prayed that Nate wouldn't say what he expected the man to say. Please God, let him be wrong.

"Eliot-"

Nate sank onto a barstool. He'd spent the past seven years trying to forget.

"Nate."

"Ryan died, last time."

"Ryan died in a plane crash."

Nate nodded, wishing he had a drink to get through this. Hoping that Eliot didn't kill him for what he was about to say.

"Ryan was on that plane, because I told him that there was no way in hell I would let him marry my daughter. He was on that plane because I told Victoria she was going back to Virginia over my dead body if she really intended to go through with that wedding. He was only two years younger than I was, for heaven's sake. I wasn't about to let her get tangled up with a guy old enough to be her father."

Nate seemed to forget that there was anyone still in the room with him, as he confessed his sins. He'd kept this to himself for seven years; the reason Victoria hated him, the reason she was still alone, the reason his wife almost left him. His daughter had come to spend a year with them while she interned at the hospital, excited about the wedding that was almost planned and set for two days after she returned to Virginia. Maggie, thrilled about helping with wedding details, fully embraced the idea.

Nate had been on board with the idea, until he found out the details of the groom. What man seriously wanted to marry a woman young enough to be his daughter? Eighteen years was just too big a difference, in age and life experience. Any man okay with that was not okay with him.

"Do you have any idea what you did to her?!'

Nate was shaken at the realization that Eliot was still in the apartment.

"Do you?! Do you have any idea how I found her when I got back?! That woman was practically dead, Nate! And you're telling' me it was because you thought you had some right to pass judgment?!"

Nate said nothing, knowing that there was no defense for his actions. It was like Maggie had said, he had to try to control everyone, and in doing so to Victoria, he'd destroyed so much. Eliot was right to hate him. He wouldn't blame the hitter if he did something violent.

He was expecting a blow, or some sort of destruction of his property. He wasn't expecting the enraged man to walk out, the door shutting quietly behind him.

L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L

The night light in the bedroom was left on when he got back to the apartment. Shrugging out of his shirt in the dim light, he could see that she'd been crying during his absence. He toed off his shoes quietly, and slipped out of his jeans and into a pair of sleep pants, hoping to slip into the bed without disturbing her.

"Where'd you go?"

So much for not disturbing her. He should have known it was a foolish hope, as lightly as Newt slept.

"I went to see Nate. He said he had nothing to do with Julian."

He punched a pillow before laying down, trying to get comfortable. He didn't think Newt was too awake, judging by the sound of her voice, and hoped she would drop off again quickly.

"Do you believe him?"

Yeah, she was almost back out already. Eliot scooted closer to her, carding a hand through her hair. It always helped lull her to sleep in the past.

"Yeah. Yeah, I believe him. He told me about Ryan."

She pulled away, and rolled over to look at him. He could see the fresh tears welling up.

"I was really happy," she choked out as she leaned into him and wept, shaking.

"I know you were, darlin'. I know."


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Whoever can figure out Eliot's middle name will get some kind of treat, virtual cookie, or something. It's from one of my favorite quotes from an early Val Kilmer movie, to give a hint. Review! **

Eliot pulled the truck up to the guardhouse at the gate, and glared at the uniformed guard who came up to meet him.

"I'm here to see Julian Santiago."

"Your name, sir?"

"Tell him Eliot Spencer's here to see him."

He saw the man pale when he stated his name. He just hoped that meant the man wouldn't be a fool and do something stupid, because he was in no mood to be in control right now. If he had to take out a guard and a gate to get inside that house, he would do it in the blink of an eye.

He watched as the man stepped back inside the guardhouse, and paid careful attention as he reached for something, in case the guard was trying to arm himself. Fortunately it turned out to be nothing more threatening than the phone. After only a few seconds on the phone, the gate opened and the guard stepped out.

"Mr. Santiago is expecting you, sir."

"I'll just bet he is."

He maneuvered the truck up the long driveway and parked it outside the entrance. When the valet offered to take his keys his growl scared the young man off. He wouldn't be here long enough to need the truck parked in the garage. He practically sprinted up the steps to the front door, which opened to admit him before he could even reach for the knob.

"Where's Santiago?"

"He's in his study, sir."

Eliot followed the uniformed butler or whatever he was down hallways to the study. He hated rich people's homes. The more money they had, the more they felt the need to show off. Multiple rooms with only one purpose, because God forbid they actually just have a large den, or living room. The servant knocked briefly before opening the door and allowing Eliot to step inside.

"Spencer," Julian greeted him, sounding resigned. Eliot was secretly pleased to see that the man looked like he hadn't slept in days. And he looked at Eliot as if the hitter was Death itself, come to claim him.

"Are you here to kill me?"

It was tempting, but no. He'd promised Newt that Santiago would still be alive when he left the estate. As much as it pained him, he would keep that promise.

"Much as I might want to, I promised her I wouldn't. My truck's out front. Her stuff had better be loaded in ten minutes."

Julian nodded, and grabbed his phone. Once he placed an abrupt call, he placed the handset back into the cradle, and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm placing an extra hundred fifty thousand dollars in her account. Severance pay; as it were."

Eliot snorted. Did the man really think money would make this all better?

"Tell Victoria….." he trailed off, and Eliot stared at him.

"You think anything you say's gonna make what you did go away, like it never happened? Keep your platitudes, Santiago. And keep your money: she doesn't want it."

The man looked as if someone had just run over his dog while he watched.

"Just tell her I'm sorry. I never meant-I'm sorry."

"I'm curious."

Eliot advanced into the room as Julian kept a cautious eye on him. He was right to do so. Eliot had only promised that Santiago would be left alive. He never promised that he wouldn't do significant damage, and he was in the mood for a lot of damage.

"What made you think that it was me, or Ford, who set the cops on you? Or that she would have any part of it if we did? What could possibly make you believe, even for a second, that she would do something like that to you?"

Julian shook his head. Now that he'd had time to think about it, he realized just how absurd his accusations against Victoria were. He also knew that it was really too late for remorse: the damage had been done. Trust had been the most important part of their working relationship, and he'd destroyed it completely. He'd hoped, since he hadn't received a resignation in his email this morning, that perhaps she'd changed her mind but the fact that Spencer was here to collect her things put an end to that.

And there was no defense for what he'd done. Not with seven years of history that told him absolutely that Victoria would never do what he'd accused her of doing.

"It doesn't matter."

He only barely kept his seat as Spencer advanced on him.

"It might not matter to you, but you can be damn sure it will matter to her."

"I was taken in over the painting that I'd given to her; the Degas that she gave back to Ford. No one knew about that painting but Victoria and I. There wasn't—I didn't see any other way for the FBI to know about that unless one of you told them."

Eliot thought that he just might have to break his promise not to kill the man. He stopped short of outright hitting Julian, though, as a thought occurred to him. There was another person who knew about that Degas, someone who would do something exactly like this. Sterling.

"We weren't the only ones who knew."

The anguish on Julian's face should have counted for something, maybe, but Eliot wasn't feeling that generous. The man deserved to suffer. They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Boss, you have a phone call. They said it was urgent."

"I'll have to call them back later, Richard."

"But it's—"

"Later, Richard." Julian interrupted him, not letting him finish that sentence. Eliot spun around to take a good look at the man who'd been harassing Newt. That man was looking at him with a look of pure hatred, which he couldn't be bothered to disguise. He must have some idea who Eliot was.

"Richard Sanford?"

Eliot left Julian alone for the moment, and advanced on the man who looked as if he was simply spoiling for a fight.

"You promised you wouldn't kill," Julian called out behind him.

"I promised her I wouldn't kill you. There was nothing in that promise about this guy."

L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L

Newt woke up, momentarily confused about her surroundings, before she realized she was in Eliot's bedroom. She'd spent very little time in his apartment, so her momentary confusion was acceptable. Glancing at the clock, she noted that it was already 10 am, and Eliot wasn't with her.

Pushing the blanket aside, she pushed up to a sitting position and stretched. As she slid out of the bed, she idly noted that Eliot's clothes were close to falling off her slim frame. Oh well, there was nothing she could really do about that. She didn't keep clothes here, and all she had was the dress she'd worn yesterday. Eliot's clothes would just have to work until she could get back to her house. She raided his drawers for clean pants and a shirt before heading to the bathroom. A hot shower was calling her name.

"Anyone still alive in here?" Newt heard a female voice call down the hall, and footsteps, as she finished combing out her hair. That wasn't Parker's voice. She tensed, and automatically started looking for anything she could use to defend herself if necessary. There wasn't much to choose from.

"Hello?"

The knock on the bathroom door was almost impatient, but the handle didn't turn. Whoever was out there wasn't trying to come in. Newt wasn't sure if she should find that comforting or concerning.

"Dr. Newton, my name's Tara. Eliot asked me to stay with you while he went out to pick up your stuff."

"And why should I believe that? Eliot wouldn't leave someone I don't know to watch out for me."

"And I didn't think it was possible for anyone to be as paranoid as Eliot," she heard the woman outside mutter under her breath. "Well, Parker was supposed to stay with you, until she saw the Mustang and decided she had to be the one to drive it back."

Tara waited outside the door, but heard no indication that this Newt person was ready to come out. Eliot had been right, this wasn't going to be easy. Sighing, she pulled out her ear bud and slid it under the door.

"Ask him yourself," she suggested.

She could hear muffled talking, and decided that maybe standing just outside the door when it opened could be a bad idea. Plus, she could smell the coffee, and she definitely needed a cup. Eliot had told her Newt wouldn't be too accepting of a stranger; he didn't tell her the woman would be this paranoid. She had to wonder again why Nate wasn't the one sitting here, considering this girl was his biological daughter.

"I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready to come out."

She'd been in the kitchen for less than two minutes when she heard footsteps down the hallway, and got her first look at the woman Eliot was so taken with (the man might not want to admit it to himself, but she wasn't blind. In her experience a man didn't act towards a woman the way Eliot did towards Victoria Newton out of simple friendship). She wasn't exactly what she expected. She looked too young, for one thing. Tara would guess the woman was just past thirty, and that was high balling it. But it could just be the fact that Eliot's clothes did sort of swallow her, making her look like a kid playing dress-up, if dress-up included dressing like a rough neck trucker.

"You want a cup of coffee?"

"No thanks. I don't drink it."

Instead, the younger woman poked through cabinets until she pulled down a rather nondescript container. Tara watched as she pulled off the lid and sniffed the contents, then nodded as if in confirmation that this was what she was looking for.

"Can you cook?"

"Cook?"

"Yeah. I'm kind of forbidden from meddling in Eliot's kitchen. Can you heat up some milk without setting off a smoke detector? I burn water."

Tara bit back a laugh at that. This girl was so matter of fact about it, she had to be serious.

"I think I can handle heating some milk. What do you have there?" She nodded at the container Newt set on the counter as she searched for a sauce pan while the younger woman pulled a jug of milk from the refrigerator.

"Eliot's hot chocolate mix."

Tara directed Newt's attention to the clothes sitting on the sofa, and let the young woman get dressed while she heated up the milk. When she emerged a few minutes later, Tara was just pouring the hot milk into a mug, and gave her a quick once over with a tilt of her head. The girl definitely looked less of a child in her own clothes. Newt accepted the steaming mug gratefully, and started adding spoonfuls of the mix she'd pulled from the cupboard. Once it was mixed to her satisfaction, she started rooting through the cupboards in search of marshmallows.

"So, I'm completely blank on this, but how do you know Eliot?"

Tara was curious about the woman who had Eliot Spencer wrapped around her finger. Sophie had called her evasive, cagey, but she didn't get that vibe at all. She had the feeling that the woman just didn't like personal questions, the same as ninety percent of the people she knew.

"We grew up together."

"Somehow I don't think you and he are the same age."

Newt just smiled a small, secretive smile and left Tara standing in the kitchen as she made her way to the couch. She wanted to be sitting down for this conversation. She liked Tara, the woman was honest and blunt; a refreshing change from everyone who tried to find things out through subterfuge. But she could see why the blonde grifter would rub Eliot the wrong way. They were a bit too much alike.

"You'd be right about that," she commented as she inclined her head in an indication that Tara should join her, "His sister and I are actually the same age. They moved next door to me when I was eight, and we just kind of hit it off."

"And the rest is history? I doubt it was that simple, knowing Spencer."

"He was different, then."

She nodded towards a photo sitting on top of a small bookcase. Tara retrieved it, and was surprised to see that it was a photo of a boy who couldn't have been more than fifteen, with a young girl on either side of him. The bigger surprise was that it was obviously Eliot. The startling blue eyes gave him away; otherwise she would never have guessed that the laughing teen who looked like he didn't have a care in the world was the same hitter she knew. She glanced up at Newt before looking back at the photo, carefully taking in the details. One of the girls resembled Spencer; it must be his sister. Her bare arm and leg were covered in a web of thick scars, running up to her neck. The other girl must be Victoria. She thought she could see a bit of Nate in that girl's face.

"That was taken about a year after they moved."

"What happened?"

"It was an apartment fire. Emma was in the hospital for a month after it happened. Their mom didn't make it. They came out to Kentucky to live with their dad."

Tara thought she could see where this was going. She'd seen the overprotective streak in Eliot, and doubted it was only a recent development. She could see where he would be incredibly protective of a little sister who'd gone through something that horrific. That could easily extend to a girl who befriended said little sister, no questions asked. She just had a gut feeling that Victoria Newton was the type of person who did just that. After all, she'd done the same thing for Parker.

"And you've been friends ever since?"

"We've been through a lot together. The kinds of things that tend to stick with you."

"And you're sure you're not dating? Because not even my closest male friends give me their bedroom. I might just have to steal Spencer from you."

Newt laughed at that, and the serious moment passed. She was feeling much better, after having a good night's sleep and a hot shower. Things didn't look as grim as they had the night before. She knew that Julian had to be feeling like ten different types of scum after having the night to think everything over, and she could almost feel enough pity to hope that Eliot didn't hurt the man too badly. Almost.

They were prevented from further conversation when the front door opened, and Eliot walked in. He was glad to see Newt awake and smiling, and then frowned at the still steaming cup she held.

"Did you cook?" He didn't smell anything burnt, but he wasn't in the kitchen yet. It could be a disaster area if she actually meddled in anything.

"She did," Newt pointed at Tara. "I went nowhere near the stove, I promise."

"Good. I already got the truck unloaded, so we can go back to the house whenever you're ready."

Good. She needed to grab her suitcase anyway.

L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L

Nate watched as Eliot smiled at the waitress who brought them their drinks. Really? Victoria hadn't even been gone three hours and he was already flirting with another woman? Maybe coming down for coffee after breaking the news to the group (Parker mostly) that Victoria would be taking a couple of weeks away wasn't such a great idea. It had been Tara's suggestion, to not leave Parker, and Eliot, alone with nothing to do but think about the fact that Victoria was gone. They were especially concerned about the blonde girl who'd taken such a liking to her, when she tended to stay away from people in general. 

_The hangover from the night before wasn't helped by the pounding on his front door, and he covered his head with his pillow, until he heard his name being yelled by the man on the other side. _

"_Ford, if you don't open the damn door I'm going to break it down!"_

_Alex Newton was standing outside his home. This couldn't be good. Nate stumbled down the stairs, concentrating very hard on not falling and breaking his neck, and unlocked the front door. Newton was standing on the other side of the door, and he looked furious._

"_Get dressed, now. You're helping."_

_He wanted to ask precisely what he was supposed to be helping with, but didn't get that far. The look and Newton's face suggested violence was ready to erupt, and he was too hung over to deal with that. He stumbled back up the stairs and struggled into real clothes. To his surprise, a Styrofoam cup of coffee was waiting for him when he made it back down without falling to his death._

"_Let's go." _

_He was hauled out of his apartment and out to a waiting car, which Alex shoved him into none too gently. Nate had to wonder if he was being taken somewhere so that the other man could dispose of the body easily. He wouldn't be too surprised if Newton had just decided to kill him._

"_Where are we going?"_

"_Spencer went out to Santiago's to get Victoria's things. We're going to be there to help unload."_

_He was surprised that Newton actually kept his word, and they were at Victoria's house to unload the boxes Eliot brought over. He didn't even make any threats while they did so. When Eliot left them alone to pick up Victoria, he briefly had the paranoid thought that Newton had just been waiting for the right moment, but Nate found himself still alive, and only slightly less hung over, when the two returned less than half an hour later. _

_Alex refilled his coffee mug as they tried to block out the yelling going in the back of the house. _

_{"You're not runnin' away, you hear me!"}_

_{"I'm not running away, Eliot! I just need to get out of here for a bit to get my head cleared, and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! You ran to effing Croatia to clear your head after Aimee got married!"}_

_The announcement that she was leaving was clearly a surprise to the hitter, and they'd retreated to the bedroom to "discuss" that decision. Since Newton didn't seem too worried about it, Nate joined him at the coffee maker that was proving to be his only savior this morning._

"_You're fine with leaving them alone when they're yelling like this?"_

"_Eh, they'll be done in a few minutes. He'd never hit her, and she's too worn out to take a swing at him."_

_{"Don't you take that tone with me, Victoria Elizabeth Newton!"}_

_{"Don't you pull that full name bullshit with me, Eliot 'She-whose-bosoms-defy-gravity' Spencer!"}_

"_And you're really fine that she's so close to a man like Eliot Spencer?"_

_He hadn't meant to ask that question, but once it slipped out, he really wanted an answer. He'd had months to come to terms with the fact that his daughter and Eliot were almost inseparable, and he was still having trouble with it. And he trusted the hitter with his life. How did a retired FBI agent, who had to know things about Eliot that Nate could only imagine, get so comfortable with the idea that such a person was part of his daughter's life?_

"_I'm a lot more comfortable with Eliot Spencer being a part of her life than I am with you being a part of it. I know he'd die rather than do anything to hurt someone he cared about."_

_That stung. But he deserved it, so he didn't say anything. He just drained his coffee cup and refilled it. There was no defense to that veiled accusation. They stood in silence, until Alex broke it._

"_He told me, that you had nothing to do with Santiago. He said he knew who was behind it. Victoria believes him."_

"_But you don't."_

_Alex took a long sip from his mug before speaking._

"_Eliot believes you. But this Eliot Spencer that Victoria knows and loves is not the same young man that I knew, so I don't exactly have the same trust in his judgment. And unfortunately I was there the last time you decided you knew better than anyone else how to run Victoria's life and took matters into your own hands. I don't doubt that you would do something like this, I just think someone else beat you to it." _

_Nate nearly spit out his coffee at that declaration._

"_What do you mean, Victoria loves him?!"_

_The look he received at that was the same look Maggie used to give him when she thought he was being an idiot. _

"_If you're actually asking that, you're nowhere near as smart as everyone seems to think you are. But a word of warning, Nate: if you do anything to try to come between the two of them the way you did with Ryan, there won't be a corner of the world you can hide from me. She's been hurt enough."_

_Nate was prevented from answering by the slam of a door and Victoria coming down the hall with a suitcase. Eliot was following on her heels, still ranting._

"_Two weeks, Newt! You've got two weeks to do your little soul searching or whatever, but if you're not back by then, I'm coming to get you. You got that?!"_

"_I'm not deaf, Eliot! I got it! Good Ness, you can be such a girl sometimes!"_

"_You wanna grab lunch before I drop you off at the airport?"_

"_Sure. Longhorn?"_

"_Sounds good."_

"Seriously?"

"What? I can't have friends?" Eliot challenged him. He was tempted to make some sort of retort about leading people on, but bit his tongue. Alex's warning from this morning was still fresh in his mind. Not to mention he didn't think he wanted to know what Eliot would say about their relationship. Ignorance really was bliss on some things.

He glanced up at the door opening, and froze. This was certainly a surprise, and he knew it would be a most unwelcome one, considering Eliot's theory on who exactly was responsible for the mess they'd just spent the day dealing with.

"Eliot, I'm going to ask you not to do anything violent."

It didn't matter that he privately hoped Eliot beat the life out of the man, or that he was tempted to do so himself. Whatever Sterling wanted, the situation wouldn't be helped by Eliot attacking. And it had to be something big if Sterling was coming to them for help.

"What are you talking about? I only use violence as an appropriate response—"

"Hello, Nate."

-And the look on Eliot's face was exactly what Nate had feared. The hitter was out of his seat before Nate could even say another word, and had Sterling on a table, pounding the man. Nate noted with amusement Hardison paying the bartender to not call the cops, and the hacker and thief watching the ensuing beating with undisguised satisfaction.

"It's about Maggie," the Englishman choked out when Eliot finally let him speak. The hitter and Nate shared a look, before Nate ordered the younger man to get their guest upstairs.


	12. Chapter 11

Eliot was more than slightly angry. Nate had prevented him from really hurting Sterling, and he still wanted to break something, preferably that man's bones. Instead, because Maggie was in jail in Kiev he had to let the man live. He really hated that guy. On top of that, he really hated long flights when he couldn't catch up on his sleep, which was absolutely impossible on a plane with Parker and Hardison.

Now, he was sitting on a bench while Tara scared Andrei Chernov out of his senses, and he stared at them, doing something with his eyes that scared people, whatever the hell that meant. He didn't think he scared people just with a look, but apparently he did. The guy handed over something while Tara ate his sandwich, and he took off.

"What people imagine is always SO much better than the reality," she said smugly as she waltzed up to him.

"Like love?"

She gave him a funny look. He didn't think it was an absurd question: women who understood going in that he wasn't on for anything permanent decided they were in love with him after only one or two dates. He didn't get it.

It was an envelope with a blank card. What the—

"Give Sophie a call, she might be able to shed some light on it."

"It's a Zanzibar Marketplace."

He'd never heard of a Zanzibar marketplace, but as Sophie explained it, it made sense.

"Okay, a marketplace means multiple buyers."

Where would Lundy gather a group of people to sell the egg?

"It's at the Embassy."

Now they had to crash an embassy party. He was getting a headache.

XXXXXXXXX

"She hasn't run away for good, right?"

He looked at Parker, wondering what was going through the woman's head now. And was the embassy party really the place to bring up whatever it was she was thinking about?

"What?"

"Victoria. She's coming back, right? She didn't go for good?"

She was worried about Newt not coming back? Huh.

"Nah, she didn't go for good. She'll be back in a couple of weeks."

"How do you know?"

She'd been thinking about it ever since she heard Victoria was leaving. After what her boss did, it wouldn't be a surprise to find that she decided to leave permanently. How did Eliot know that she wouldn't stay away now that she'd gone back home? And oh, that woman's jewels were just asking to be stolen. Couldn't she just grab a little one?

"Because I'm here."

"Huh?"

Even to her that didn't make sense. Of course he was here! This was where Maggie was, and where the egg was that they had to retrieve. The retrieval specialist couldn't retrieve the thing he had to retrieve if he wasn't where the thing being retrieved was supposed to be. But what did that have to do with his girlfriend (and she still didn't believe they weren't something more than just friends) not coming back?

"If she was running away permanently, she would have asked me to go with her. And I would have said yes."

Oh! That made sense. It didn't even bother her that Eliot had just admitted he would quit the team; Victoria was his Person, of course he would leave with her. They didn't have time to worry about Eliot's personal life anymore: Lundy just walked in with Maggie on his arm, and- Oh Shiny Tomato!-they both saw Nate and Tara. Now Tara couldn't go for the egg.

"Parker, double reverse on three."

L-L-L-L-L-L

Newt fought against the pull of oblivion and struggled to open her eyes. Her head was pounding. What on earth had happened to her? Her last clear memory was saddling Andromeda and taking her out on the property. Why did she feel like she'd been hit by a Mack truck?

She was on a couch, and she was restrained. Her hands and feet were both bound, and the cotton feeling in her mouth was actual cotton. Whoever had taken her had gagged her as well. She couldn't quite figure out the continuous dull hum she heard until she looked out of a tiny window and saw only clouds. She was on a plane. A private plane, by the looks of things. Not good.

Her mind worked furiously. Who the hell had taken her? What did they want with her? How long had she been unconscious? She was starting to remember fragments; men dressed in black approaching her where she'd stopped Andromeda by a stream for a break. Their words so heavily accented she could only barely recognize that they were speaking English—it definitely wasn't their native language. Her book flying when one tried to haul her bodily to her feet, and she fought back. She could hold her own against one man, maybe even two, but there were more than that, and one of them had obviously hit her in the side of the face with something, knocking her out.

She struggled up to a sitting position as she looked around the cabin for anything that might be used to slice through the zip-ties keeping her limbs immobile. Nothing in sight looked viable. Could she at least get the gag out of her mouth? Was there any sort of edge anywhere that she could use as a catch to get this out? She froze when she saw that two of the men who'd taken her were sitting in oversized chairs closer to the plane's door, completely ignoring her. Were they asleep?

Her search was halted by the opening of a door at the rear of the cabin. She hadn't been able to hear anyone's approach over the hum of the engines. She froze as a well-dressed man walked in. She thought he looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't remember where she might have met him. Funny, he looked more like a banker than a kidnapper.

"I apologize for my associate's conduct, Dr. Newton. I'm afraid they were a little too—enthusiastic—in carrying out their orders to bring you to me."

He stepped close as he shut the door. Too close. Newt couldn't scoot away as he stepped up to her, not able to get further away than the other end of the couch, and he caught her when she almost rolled off the edge.

"I'm not here to harm you, Dr. Newton."

Her response was muffled by the gag in her mouth, and she worried she might choke on it. Her captor pulled her back to a sitting position and immediately reached behind her head to remove it. She was silent for a moment, working her jaw as she finally able to relax those muscles. He pulled out a small pocket knife and sliced through the zip ties, and she rubbed her wrists as the blood started flowing again. Did these people have no idea what kind of nerve damage they could cause with restraints that tight, or did they just not care?

"You've got a funny way of showing you mean no harm."

"I just released you."

He actually sounded affronted that she found his conduct lacking.

"You kidnapped me," she felt the need to point out the obvious.

"And I apologized for it. I assure you that the situation is dire, and your assistance is required."

"Oh, so you're a polite kidnapper. How novel."

The man's lips compressed into a thin line, and Newt could practically see all the rude and probably threatening remarks he wanted to make. It occurred to her, perhaps a minute late, that she was trapped on a plane with this man, and people who apparently followed his orders. If he decided to hurt her, she doubted that anyone on the flight would come to her aid.

"There is a life at stake, Dr. Newton. I regret the necessity of taking you from your home, but I will stop at nothing to help my son."

"Your son?"

She saw no evidence of a child anywhere. What the hell was the man going on about?

"Come with me."

Hoping her legs would support her, Newt shakily rose to her feet. She was pleased when she managed to stay upright. She followed her captor back to the door he'd come through, but stopped dead in her tracks.

"Is that my bag?"

Not only was her medic bag sitting in a chair, but beside it was one of her rolling suitcases. Things she'd left in Boston. Those bastards had been in her house?

"You may yell and voice your displeasure over my actions later, Doctor, but now there simply isn't time."

With that, he pushed the door open and pushed her into what turned out to be a private bedroom. A bed filled most of the space, but Newt noticed a bassinet in a corner, and a chair pulled up beside it. These had been abandoned, though, in favor of the bed; a woman who looked to be her own age sat holding a baby. Newt could see at a glance that the child wasn't well.

"Get my bag," she ordered her captor as she approached the bed. The child was red faced, and burning to the touch.

"This baby needs a hospital."

"That's why you're here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later, Newt stepped out of the bedroom, exhausted. The baby had finally fallen asleep, and his fever had come down two degrees. It was still dangerously high, but it wasn't likely to kill him now. The anxious father was seated with his men, in conference about something. He looked up at her when he heard the door open, and immediately left his discussion to meet her, and she took a seat on the couch.

"How is he?"

"He's doing better. He's sleeping right now, which is the best thing for him, and we'll keep an eye on his fever."

"Thank you, doctor."

"You were in my house."

He sank down on the couch beside her.

"I was. I'd gone to Boston to borrow your services from Julian Santiago. I was unpleasantly surprised to learn you no longer worked for him. It was fortunate that you were in Virginia, and we were able to refuel the plane while my men retrieved you."

"That baby needs to be in a hospital. That fever was high enough to be fatal. If something goes wrong up here, I don't have the equipment needed to save his life."

"I'm afraid that's not a possibility, doctor. People are looking for my son, and his mother. If we went to a hospital, they would find him, and I cannot let that happen."

"What do you mean, people are looking for him? Did you kidnap that baby?"

What the hell had this man gotten her mixed up in?

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"I was kidnapped and woke up on a plane, and you want to talk to me about ridiculous?!"

He looked back to the closed door as if afraid they'd disturbed the room's occupants. Newt wasn't too worried about it, with a fever still high, the child would not sleep lightly, and the mother looked as exhausted as her offspring. Still, she lowered her voice.

"Do you have any idea what you've done in kidnapping me? My father is former FBI. He won't stop hunting you down until he finds me. You can't very well help your son if you're in jail."

"I assure you, doctor Newton, that you will be released and compensated for your trouble once we reach our destination. And I doubt very much that your father will be able to find us where we're going."

She didn't like the sound of that.

"Where we're going? Where exactly are we going?"

"Bucharest."

L-L-L-L-L

Eliot stepped out into the hallway when he heard his phone ringing. Hardison and Parker were camped out in his room, as his room had the biggest TV, and Hardison wanted to show off his geek again before they had to head to the airport. This, apparently, was more important than getting any real sleep. This was the last time he was letting the insomniac anywhere near his room at two in the morning.

He'd been expecting a call from Newt, but not at this time of night. They were seven hours ahead of Virginia time, and she knew that. She wouldn't call this late unless it was something important. His concern skyrocketed when he saw that it was Alex Newton, not Victoria Newton, calling him.

"Alex, what's going on?"

"Victoria's missing."

He could feel his heart freeze in his chest.

"Define 'missing'."

"She saddled one of the horses for a ride this morning, and Andromeda came back before noon, without a rider. We've searched the entire property, and she's not on it. There were signs of some sort of struggle."

Dear God, no.

"What signs of struggle?"

"Her phone was on the ground, crushed, and there's more than one set of footprints on the ground."

Damn it! With her phone crushed, Hardison couldn't track it. And while Richard Sanford was the most likely suspect, any number of people could be behind her abduction. And that wasn't even counting the possibility that it was a random attack, and not specifically to do with her connection to him.

"Have you reported her missing yet?"

Probably not; it was too soon, he knew. But he also knew that Alex Newton wasn't the type to sit back and do nothing.

"Hendrix and McDonough are coming in, as a favor. But it's been several hours, and there hasn't been a phone call."

Eliot didn't like the implications of that. If she'd been taken for some sort of ransom, whether for money or Eliot, they would have gotten a call by now. That they hadn't received any demands made Eliot think more seriously about Richard Sanford. The man had an unhealthy interest in Newt, paired with an inability to understand rejection. But was he unbalanced enough to kidnap her?

"Where are you, Spencer?"

"Kiev."

He cursed the fact that it had to happen while he was out of the country. Even if he went to the airport right now and got on a flight to the States immediately, it would be hours before he reached Virginia, or Boston. They couldn't wait hours to start questioning.

"I'll be on the first flight possible. I'm gonna make some calls. If I hear anything, I'll let you know."

He ended the call and punched in another number. He just hoped that Quinn was still near Boston. There wasn't really anyone else he trusted to do the job since he couldn't be there.

"Who is this?"

"Quinn, it's Eliot Spencer."

"Eliot. This is certainly a surprise."

While Quinn paid a visit to Julian Santiago and Richard Sanford, he would pay a visit to Sterling. And if he found out that Sterling had anything to do with Newt's disappearance, he wouldn't be so nice. But first, he had to tell Nate that Victoria was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two hours later, Eliot was in the airport, nursing a bleeding knuckle. Beating Sterling nearly senseless had been incredibly satisfying, but he'd gotten no answers. In this, at least, he was inclined to believe that Jim Sterling was innocent. That just made the waiting game he was now playing even harder.

Hardison had booked them on the first flight they could get to in time, and now they were just waiting for the call to board the plane. Tara was thankfully keeping an eye on Nate, who'd gone to the mini bar immediately, and didn't stop drinking until they reached the airport. Eliot was tempted to knock the older man out just so they wouldn't have to deal with him on the plane. However, he was more worried about Parker. The thief had gone quiet when he broke the news, and she hadn't said a word to anyone beyond a "huh?" when they asked if she was alright. She was sitting beside Eliot, holding onto her jacket for dear life.

"I'm gonna get her back, Parker."

"You don't know that."

A complete sentence. Progress.

"Yes I do. I'll find her, and bring her home."

It was a promise he would absolutely keep. What he didn't say out loud was that it was possible it was body he would bring home, if the wrong people had her and he got there too late. He would consider that reality only when forced to confront it. The gate attendants announced that it was time to board, the microphone loud enough that Eliot almost missed the ringing of his cell phone. A glance at the number told him that it was Quinn. He slipped out of the line and answered it.

"I'm about to get on a plane. I'll be back in the States in eleven hours."

"Hold that thought, Spencer. Have you ever heard of Yuri Baicu?"

Baicu, Baicu, he'd heard that name before. The question was—never mind. He'd run into Nikolai Baicu, the older of the brothers, on occasion during his dealings with Damien Moreau. A Romanian, if he remembered correctly. His family used their legitimate businesses to cover their less than legal activities. But Yuri was the younger brother, and Eliot had never heard that he was taking part in that aspect of the family ventures.

"I've heard of him."

"Santiago informed me that Baicu came to see him this morning, wanting to borrow your girl's services. When he learned she was no longer in Boston, he was very interested in her location. I did some digging, and learned that one of the Baicu's private jets filed a flight plan out of Virginia. Final destination was Bucharest."

Bucharest. He could be in Bucharest in hours. Eliot yanked Hardison out of the line, leaving the others to stare at them.

"Thanks, Quinn. I'll wire you the money—"

"I'll give you a pass on this one, Spencer. Since I don't actually have to retrieve her."

"Eliot, the flight is boarding now. We got to go!"

"I'm not going home. Get me to Bucharest. Now."

He glared at Hardison as the hacker pulled out his smart phone and started pushing buttons. Nate had pulled out of the line as well to join them, leaving Parker and Tara watching them, and the gate attendant looking confused.

"Got it. Your flight leaves in fifteen minutes from Gate 19."

"Alright. Find out where Yuri Baicu's plane is landing, and when, and let me know."

"Eliot—"

"I know where she's been taken, Nate, and I'm going to get her."

He took off at a run for the gate.

L-L-L-L-L

Newt woke to a gentle but insistent shaking of her shoulder, and blinked, owl-eyed, as the fuzzy outline began to take the shape of her kidnapper. She'd fallen asleep on the couch, and someone had covered her with a blanket. And they'd pushed a pillow under her head. The man really was a polite kidnapper, she supposed.

"Doctor, Michael's awake."

Newt was instantly on her feet, pushing past the man and into the cabin. She gave the mother a quick visual once-over, but the girl merely looked tired, a state Newt could well understand. Her attention was fixed on the baby in the woman's arms.

He was indeed awake and looking much better. He was still hot to the touch, but she could tell that the fever was coming down. She quickly slipped on her stethoscope and listened to the boy's heart beat as she placed the thermometer against his forehead. One hundred degrees. Down another degree, definitely a big improvement over the hundred and three he'd had when she first checked him. His heart wasn't beating as rapidly any longer, and he was breathing easier. She checked her watch. It had been six hours since she'd last medicated him, he could do with another round. She disliked medicating so young a baby, he couldn't be more than four or five months old, but with a fever as high as he had, medication carried less risk than simply trying to cool him down with water on a plane.

Once she was finished, Newt re-packed her supplies back into her bag, and left it to the mother to keep the baby occupied but relatively inactive. She returned to the main cabin to find her captor holding out a steaming mug of what smelled like coffee.

"Thank you, but I don't drink coffee."

She lay back down on the couch and curled up, determined to fall back into the semi-peaceful dream she'd been shaken out of. She'd only had three hours sleep so far. It was worse than dealing with Eliot when he was hurt.

"Would you like something else? You haven't eaten anything yet. It will be two more hours before we land."

"No, thank you."

She closed her eyes, stuffing the pillow back under her head. She expected him to leave her alone again, and was surprised to hear him sit down in the chair beside her.

"Sarah and I planned to be married. Her parents disowned her when they found out she carried my child. They were going to take Michael away from her, so I arranged to get them out. If I had taken Michael to a hospital, they would have found them both."

That was probably the closest she was going to get to an apology. She could understand it, she supposed; that desperation to keep his family safe. But she seriously doubted that her dad, or Eliot, would be so understanding. Alex would have called Eliot by now, she was sure. Eliot would be out for blood.

"When we land, you will be able to call your family and reassure them that you are safe. Once Michael is well, I will make the plane available to take you wherever you wish to go."

"You really need to get him to a pediatrician. I can bring down his fever, but I can't determine why he had it in the first place. If you don't find out what caused it, he may get it again."

"I will. As soon as we reach home."

The next time she woke, it was to the young woman, Sarah, shaking her, informing her that they were getting ready to land. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and buckled her seat belt. Michael looked better, and the fever was almost gone. As long as they got him to a pediatrician soon, he should be alright. She just hoped Sarah knew what she was doing, running off to Romania with this man.

The landing was smooth, much better than some she'd had on commercial flights, and all too soon they were pulling into a private hangar. She wondered what this man planned to do about her lack of a passport, or did he plan on bypassing that altogether. He obviously had plenty of money, maybe he could do that. Newt stood and stretched as one of the men who'd grabbed her collected her bags.

"Doctor Newton."

She was ushered out ahead of Sarah and the baby, and, not paying attention to the men in front of her nearly ran into the one just ahead of her as he'd stopped in his tracks. The eyes of all the men were focused on the single individual standing not fifty feet away, looking pissed off and more than willing to commit murder. She felt, more than saw, Sarah holding the baby more tightly to her. She heard her kidnapper behind them all, swearing to himself in a language she didn't speak.

"Spencer? Eliot Spencer? They sent you?"

At the mention of that name, the four men in front of her drew their weapons and trained them on the hitter. Eliot didn't even lift an eyebrow. He kept his gaze fixed solely on Newt, looking her over for signs of injury or abuse.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, El. They haven't hurt me. Put those guns down, you idiots!"

His eyes narrowed when he saw the bruise on the side of her face.

"Wait a minute. You are here for the doctor? You did not come for Sarah?"

Newt didn't take her eyes off Eliot for a second, and she still couldn't determine how he managed to be standing right in front of her, all four armed men on the ground. He very carefully touched the injured side of her face, avoiding putting any real pressure on the nasty bruise. The look on his face changed from concern to murderous intent when he switched his gaze to Yuri Baicu, who watched him apprehensively, carefully putting himself between the hitter and Sarah.

"Eliot, I'm fine. Really. They didn't hurt me."

"Someone's gonna answer for what they did to her face, Baicu. Which one is it?"

"I swear to you Spencer, we meant no harm to your woman. I needed her assistance with my child. She has not been mistreated."

Newt laid a hand on Eliot's arm when he would have advanced on the other man. She didn't want to see any bloodshed, and she could see that Eliot wouldn't be satisfied with anything less.

"Who did it?"

"Bela."

Yuri extended a shaky hand and pointed out one of the men on the ground. Eliot turned to see the man in question attempting to get to his feet. Eliot grabbed him by his jacket and dragged him out of sight. Newt winced as she heard the sound of a solid beating taking place, and wondered if Eliot would leave the unfortunate man alive. He returned minutes later, his hands bloody, but some of the murderous look was gone.

"Eliot."

He looked up at her, startled out of his thoughts. She looked quickly at his hands; they would need attention.

"Eliot, let's just go. They don't need me anymore. I'm ready to go home."

He looked to Yuri, daring him to object. He was just waiting for an excuse to take the man down. The woman standing behind Yuri was eyeing him apprehensively.

"Please. I can have a pilot here to return you to your home within the hour. It will take that long to fuel up and go through pre-flight preparations."

"I don't think we'll wait."

"It's probably the fastest we'll get out of here, El. I say we take him up on it."

It would give her a chance to give Sarah some final instructions for the baby before they left. And it would be a lot more comfortable than a commercial flight. Eliot waited only half a second before nodding his agreement. True to his word, Yuri had them on a fresh plane and back in the air in an hour. This time, Newt sprawled out on the bed, ready to close her eyes and sleep now that she didn't have to worry about where she was going or what someone wanted with her. She barely even felt Eliot slide up behind her and pull her close, curling protectively around her.


	13. Chapter 12

Newt looked around the room, trying to figure out what was different about the place. Something was off. Eliot had cleaned up the mess left by Yuri Baicu's men when they'd gone through her things, but that wasn't it. He'd had three weeks to get everything back into place. No, something was-that was it. Nestled among the teddy bears lining the bookshelves was an alligator. Where did that come from?

"Umm, El-?"

He looked up at her as he set the suitcase down, taking a moment to realize what she was pointing out. Huh. That was new.

"Parker."

It could only have come from the blonde thief. It wasn't there before he left for the airport to pick Newt up. Newt just nodded. It did seem a thoroughly Parker gift. She'd missed that woman while she was in Virginia. Somehow the blonde had a way of putting everything into a less grim perspective.

"You okay?"

Newt nodded absently. Physically she was fine. She just had no idea what to do, where to go from here. She was a doctor with no job, and no other real skills. There were a lot of wealthy people in Boston who would pay for a concierge doctor, she knew, as several had tried to steal her from Julian almost the moment they moved here. But she didn't think she wanted to get back into that. Three weeks to "recover" from her impromptu trip to Romania hadn't done anything to settle the question in her head.

"Newt?"

Eliot grew more concerned with her continued silence. He stepped around so that he was in front of her, forcing her to face him.

"I don't know anymore, Eliot. I don't know what I'm doing here."

He thought his heart might break at that declaration. Newt had never sounded so lost before. She'd been broken when Ryan died, but it was different. That was deep-seeded grief. This-this just sounded hopeless. He carefully steered her to the bed and pushed her until she was sitting on it, then sat next to her.

"This is home, Newt. That's why you're here. And you can do whatever you want. Or do nothing, if you don't want to go back to work. We've got plenty of money."

He didn't think she would seriously consider not going back to work at some point; it just wasn't in her to do nothing. And the doctor was too much a part of her to leave it behind altogether just because of Julian Santiago and James Sterling. She would go back to practicing somewhere. But if she wanted to take some time off before figuring out what to do with herself, he had more than enough money for the both of them. She was already shaking her head at that.

"That's sweet of you, but I'm not taking your money, El. And I can't sit here and do nothing. I'd go crazy in less than a week."

They were interrupted by a solid knocking on the front door, and Eliot left Newt in the bedroom. They weren't expecting company. The others shouldn't even know that she was back yet. He opened the door cautiously, mentally preparing whatever he might find on the other side. He couldn't forget that Baicu's men had made it inside the house while it was empty, or that Sterling had threatened to tell everyone who wanted a piece of him where he was. He certainly wasn't prepared for the sight of Sterling himself standing on the other side of the door, along with Maggie.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled at the Englishman.

"It's nice to see you too, Eliot," Maggie answered, while Sterling just stared at him warily. She started to step inside, but Eliot blocked the doorway.

"What. The. Hell. Are you doing here, Sterling?"

"I come in peace, Spencer."

"Eliot, we came to see how Victoria's doing. Can we come in?"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tear you apart right now."

Sterling wisely took a step back, but Maggie just watched Eliot, waiting for him to allow them entry. She looked between the two men, who were engaged in a silent stare-off, one that her companion was quickly losing. She started to worry that Eliot might just do something violent to the other man, and she leaned in to get his attention.

"He came to apologize, Eliot. He feels badly about what happened."

"You should," he directed his response to the man standing just feet away, "I hold you personally responsible for this whole mess. I warned you what would happen if you ever came near her again."

"Eliot!"

"Don't you 'Eliot!' me, Maggie. You weren't here; you didn't see what his actions cost her."

"Be realistic, Spencer. I didn't kidnap your girlfriend."

He stepped out of the doorway and lunged for the man. Maggie took the opportunity to slip inside. She had a feeling that it would take more than her protests to stop Eliot from committing murder. She found Victoria in her room, unpacking essentials from her suitcase.

"Maggie!"

She was surprised to see her ex-stepmother standing in the doorway.

"Eliot's trying to kill someone in the living room."

Newt dropped her stuff on the bed and made her way through the house to see Eliot beating a man whose face she couldn't see almost to death.

"Eliot!"

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, and Newt got her first look at his victim. Her eyes widened in recognition, and without another word she stepped into the living room, advancing on the pair of them. Eliot took a step back as she approached them, and Sterling shakily pushed himself off the wall, attempting to stand straight. The moment Newt reached them she balled up her fist and let it fly, landing a firm punch on the battered man's eye. She could feel Eliot's smirk as Sterling moaned and brought a hand up to his face.

"Victoria!"

Oh, yeah, Maggie was here. And she sounded pretty horrified. Newt left the men with a quiet "he's had enough" to Eliot, heading for the kitchen and some ice packs. When she returned Maggie had managed to get Sterling into a chair, while Eliot still stewed from his post by the door. Newt tossed him an ice pack for his hands and put one on her own knuckles.

"Was that really necessary?"

Maggie was glaring at the pair of them, but neither of them even looked slightly sheepish. Newt finally relented enough to toss an ice pack at the seated man.

"He came to apologize."

"Really? He came to apologize?"

Sterling nodded his head, and then moaned at the movement.

"And what exactly are you apologizing for, Mr. Sterling? Are you apologizing for coming into my home and making threats against people I care about, or are you apologizing for hauling my employer in for questioning and making it impossible for me to work there anymore, which ended in my getting kidnapped? Which one are you actually here to apologize for?"

"Consider it an all-inclusive apology."

"Very well, apology not accepted. You know where the door is."

"Victoria, he's trying to apologize-"

A warning shake of Eliot's head cut Maggie off, and he actually pulled her from the couch and out of the living room. Newt overheard his muttered "if she wants to tear him apart for what he did to her, we're gonna let her", Maggie's "you can't blame him for what happened", and his "watch me" as they passed her on the way to the kitchen. The loud bang as the kitchen door shut alerted Sterling that he was alone in the house with a woman who looked like she might just cheerfully murder him.

"You would have gone to Romania even if Santiago hadn't been hauled in for questioning. There's no way you would turn down a plea to help a sick child."

"You're right," she acknowledged even as she wondered how he knew those details, "but I would have been there of my own choice. I wouldn't have been attacked, knocked unconscious, and woken up bound and gagged at thirty-five thousand feet."

"I really am sorry, Dr. Newton. I never thought that something like that would happen."

"You didn't think about anything, Javert."

"Did you just call me Javert?"

Newt nodded. It was a fitting description of the man now glaring at her.

"He missed all the really big things too; in his single-minded pursuit of the man he called a criminal. And in the end he threw himself off a bridge because he couldn't accept that a criminal might also be a good man."

"Eliot Spencer is no Jean Valjean."

"And he's no Jack the Ripper. Yet you can't give up on trying to catch him, even when he's doing nothing to you. In fact, if I heard correctly, he just helped you with a certain Faberge Egg, that had been stolen?"

"It's my job to catch criminals, Doctor Newton. And I will do that job to the best of my ability, using any means available. And I won't throw myself off a bridge in a moment of crisis over it."

"No, you'll just get yourself killed over it. And a word of warning to you, Sterling. If you ever again involve me, or go after Eliot's sister and nephew, I'll be the one to kill you myself."

The bastard had the nerve to try to smirk at her. A difficult feat, considering the state of his face at the moment.

"You're a doctor. You don't have it in you to kill someone."

Wasn't that just adorable? He actually believed that.

"You wouldn't be the first person I've killed, Sterling. Keep that in mind. Now, you know where the door is; don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out."

He stared at her, as if trying to determine whether she was serious, before rising carefully from the chair and slowly making his way to the door.

"Tell Maggie I'll be waiting for her in the car."

"No problem, just get out of my house."

Whatever he might have said, he changed his mind and closed his mouth, choosing instead to step out the door. Newt made sure he was inside his car before she headed out back and told Maggie that her friend was waiting for her, and they would catch up some other day, since she was in town. Maggie looked like she wanted to say something, but chose to keep it to herself. She simply agreed that they would get together before she left town, and showed herself out of the house.

"You okay, darlin'?"

"I'm okay. I threatened to kill him if he ever involved me in any of his shit again. He didn't think I have it in me."

"Oh! Before I forget again, you had a call yesterday from a Jenna Moultrie. She wanted you to give her a call when you got home."

L-L-L-L-L

Nate stared into the hospital room, where Patrick Bonnano lay sleeping, hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. This was wrong. Bonnano was a good man, and a good cop. He'd been a help on more than one occasion when it came to the actual "arresting bad guys" part. He shouldn't be lying in a hospital bed because someone decided to kill him.

Nate listened to Bonnano's wife; she had no idea who would do something like this. Bonnano never talked about his cases with his family. It sounded as though the man made the sincere effort to leave the badge at the door when he came home.

The son was sitting on the bench against the wall, just staring at the room. It reminded Nate too much of when he'd been in the hospital with Sam: waiting, watching as the doctors worked on his son only to hear that terrible tone that meant his child's heart had stopped beating.

This family deserved better than to have to suffer through something like this. Bonnano deserved better than to be gunned down on his day off. He was a good man, through and through. No genuinely good person deserved to have this happen. They would find out who was behind this. He'd already called in Eliot and the others; they would be waiting at the apartment.

As he drove, his thoughts turned to Victoria. He hadn't heard from her since Eliot found her and took her back to Virginia. Eliot had informed everyone that she was safe, if a little shaken at being kidnapped to Romania, but no one had actually spoken to her. The relief at knowing that she'd been found and she was alright had been indescribable. But after that call, there had been only silence. Eliot kept them updated when he spoke to her, but from Victoria herself? Not a whisper.

He knew that Alex Newton was the man Victoria saw as her father, and he should be: he'd definitely been there for her more than Nate ever had. It was only to be expected that she would go to him when she got back, but it would have been nice to at least get a phone call or something. He had no idea how she was really doing, after everything she'd been through recently. He couldn't help but worry that she wasn't holding up as well as they all wanted her to. He'd almost resorted to having Hardison dig up Alex Newton's phone number, ready to call the man and find out how his daughter was recovering.

He walked into his apartment to see that the others were already seated around the screens. He'd told Hardison to start looking into Bonnano's cases the moment he made the call; he was interested in seeing what the hacker turned up.

"That's it."

"Belbridge? No, man, I told you there's nothing in the file. These two other files, they are definitely—"

"No. That's it exactly."

"Go back to the video of the shooting."

At least Tara was backing him up on this. He had to admit that she was proving more useful than he'd ever thought she would. She was figuring out where he was going with this. Eliot and Parker were just waiting on his direction.

"Remote location, away from witnesses, meeting people he trusted—this was something he was keeping quiet. Definitely the Belbridge file."

"Okay, now I'm just saying, we might want to leave this one to the state police."

"How bad can it be?"

The mayor of the town? It was worse than he thought. Okay, this could be a problem.

L-L-L-L

"Victoria! How was Virginia?"

Newt hugged her dinner companion before sliding into the booth. She'd missed the scheduled lunch with her friend, due to quitting her job and leaving the state for a while. Jenna had understood about the whole thing, even volunteering to go out to Santiago's estate and neuter him, and Richard Sanford, for her, but Newt hated how things had worked out. She was glad to meet Jenna for dinner, and get back into a semblance of normal. Eating together had become a sacred ritual almost as soon as she moved to Boston with Julian, and discovered that Jenna was in the same city. They'd helped each other get through the labyrinth that was a modern medical education.

"It was good. Quiet. Exactly what I needed after everything. But tell me about the hospital. What have I missed?"

The waitress came to take their drink orders, and quickly returned to take their food orders. That was one thing Newt loved about this restaurant, the food came quickly. There was no uber long wait for service.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Masson's leaving. "

"What happened?"

That was definitely news Newt hadn't been expecting.

"He was caught in the on-call room with the Chief's wife. And Chief is the one who discovered them. It's turning into a regular episode of Grey's Anatomy over there."

"No."

"Yes. But of course, this all means that we need to find another doctor to take Masson's place."

Jenna was staring at her meaningfully. Newt thought she could be excused for not catching on right away; she was exhausted, and mentally drained. Still, it took her longer than it should have, even in her condition, to catch on to what Jenna was saying.

"You want me to apply for the ER?"

"Yes! I want you to come over to the dark side for a change. Get out of that concierge medicine racket. Think about it Victoria. When was the last time you really got your hands dirty?"

The flight to Romania came to mind. As did the minor surgery on Eliot's little hitter One Night Stand, the Fixing of Parker, and the countless times she patched up Eliot. Still, she could see Jenna's point. She'd spent the first years of her internship in the hospital ER, before Ryan died and everything went sideways, and occasionally she missed that hectic pace.

"I haven't been in a hospital in years, Jenna. There's no way I'd make the cut."

"I already talked to HR. You know who's there now? Sumner. He was thrilled to hear that you were in Boston, and looking for a new job. You always were his favorite student."

It sounded too good to be true. Was it some sort of divine providence, this job opening up just when she needed one, and people at the hospital eager to give it to her? It was almost like this was designed to fall into her lap, as the job offer from Julian had come when Ryan died and she desperately needed to get away from life.

"Sumner said he'd give you two days to think about it before he actually starts looking at resumes."

When she got back to the house, two hours later, she was surprised to see that Eliot still wasn't there. He'd been gone for the better part of the day now. He hadn't said anything about not coming back when he got the call to meet at Nate's. If he'd met some girl at the bar, he better have gone back to his apartment. If he didn't show up by the time she was ready to turn in, she'd give him a call to make sure he was still alive.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot muttered a curse as he saw that he'd missed a call from Newt. He'd never heard the damn thing ring. If Hardison had messed with his phone again… he pressed the button to pull up the voice message.

"_Just making sure you're alive, El. You ran out of here in a hurry this afternoon. If you've got some girl back at your apartment, I really don't want the details, just give me a call back when you get a chance."_

He looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. She would have gone to bed by now. He typed out a quick text message to let her know that he was fine, and would try to call her tomorrow. It was too late to have a conversation now. If he woke her up now, she would think it was because he'd had a nightmare or something, and when she found out he was fine, she'd chew him out. And he was ready to get some sleep himself.

It was the next afternoon before he had a chance to call Newt back. Nate changed the plan on them, which was (for some strange reason) a surprise to the others. Eliot had been half expecting it. Maybe everyone else missed it, but Eliot saw just how personally Nate was taking this one. And he could understand why: it was almost a reverse of what he'd gone through with his son. That had to bring back some painful memories. Eliot just hoped he didn't do something stupid that would get them all hurt, or worse.

At this point he just wanted ten minutes alone with that oily mayor, but then Hardison had to make him a baseball player. A baseball player? He would admit that the Japanese commercial was good, he liked that, but he hated baseball. And now he had to go infiltrate a team so that they could start rumors, and get all those guys worked up and worried over nothing. Not good.

"But you hate baseball. Since when do you go for anything where you can't score on defense?"

"Tell me about it. It's ridiculous."

"Maybe, but I definitely want pictures of this. Tell Hardison to get some footage for me."

"Ain't gonna happen. Now what's going on? You sound positively cheerful."

"Oh. Well, I was offered a job in the ER. I haven't given them an answer yet, but at least it's an offer."

"Why haven't you answered yet?"

He was interrupted by Tara tapping him on the shoulder. It was time for him to go.

"I gotta go. I should be back in a few days."

"Okay. You take care of yourself El."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nate, I can take these guys."

No way. No way was the jackass really going to take the fall for all of them. Eliot wouldn't let it happen. He might be concussed, bruised and bleeding, but he could take these idiot FBI agents and their guns. And then he would take great pleasure in putting an end to the pain in his ass that Sterling had become. He was NOT leaving Nate behind. How could he go back to Newt and tell her that he'd run off and left her biological father to Interpol? He shrugged off Sophie's hand on his arm, urging restraint.

"Go."

Nate was staring at him, and Eliot could almost see it in the other man's eyes. Something was wrong. He wasn't just being stubborn. He was starting to look pale, and the way he was holding his side—oh hell, Nate had been shot. If he bled out on them now, no one was walking away. Ten yards away from the chopper, and Nate was shot and handcuffed to the railing. The daffy bastard was trying to give them a chance to get out while he still had some leverage with Sterling. This time when Parker pulled at his arm, he went with them. He kept his eye trained on Nate as the chopper lifted off, and he saw when the man finally fell.

He made the flight back to Boston in silence, ignoring Hardison and Sophie who were talking back and forth. Parker seemed to understand, as she edged closer and hung onto his arm. He'd never walked away and left someone behind before. He had a feeling that it was a first for the thief too; the first time she'd ever left someone she actually cared about. This wasn't over by a long shot. They were going to get Nate out, and he was going to pay a visit to Sterling.

"Eliot, is that you?" he heard as soon as he stepped across the threshold and shut the door. He'd spent the entire trip trying to figure out what to say to the woman he was about to face, and still didn't know.

"I accepted the job at the ER," she was saying, and from the sound of her voice she was getting closer. She must have been in bathroom or her bedroom, "I start tomorrow afternoon. And I found a half million dollar deposit to my checking account yesterday. Baicu decided I needed to be compensated for being kidnapped. Oh my God. What happened?"

Her eyes were frozen on his face. He'd forgotten what he must look like in the flurry of their escape. She was immediately urging him to sit on the couch, and he grabbed her hand when she turned to leave him.

"I'm okay. It's not mine."

"Eliot, you don't look okay. Let me get my bag and take a look."

"I'm fine, Newt. It's Nate."

"Nate? What about Nate?"


	14. Chapter 13

Newt looked around the room with distaste. It was her first trip to Rockford Correctional Facility, and it may very well be her last. She'd finally let Eliot convince her to make the trip and visit Nate, and she was already regretting it. The catcalls from some of the guards as she walked down the hall were really tempting her to just let one of them have it. How did they get away with that; being so disrespectful to visitors? Wasn't the warden supposed to keep an eye on his people?

She took her seat at the booth and waited, still wondering what exactly she was supposed to say. It was an unselfish thing Nate had done, taking the fall for all the others, but where the hell did he get off with his martyr complex that made him think he had the right to put them all through this crap? She knew that Sophie had finally come up with some sort of harebrained escape plan, and that Parker was fully on board with it. Eliot had gone more quiet than usual, and Hardison, well, from what she saw of the hacker he'd thrown himself even more into their work. She wasn't sure that any of their methods of coping were particularly healthy.

"Hello Victoria," Nate greeted her carefully as he sat down. He looked as surprised at her presence as she was. Hardison had given her some sort of gizmo to plug into the phone that would make their conversation completely private, but she was hesitant to use it. Still, she connected it as the hacker had showed her, not wanting to worry about slipping up and saying something that could get any of them caught or in trouble.

"Nate. They said you'd been shot. Are you healing up okay?"

"Yeah. Doctors said I'm as good as new. Has Eliot been taking care of you?"

"I'm a grown woman Nate; I can take care of myself. But he's been good."

Now that she was here, she really was drawing a blank as to what to say. It was why she was so terrible at visiting people in the hospital, too. She was great at patching people up; making conversation with them was a whole other story. And she and Nate had never had the most expressive relationship before this.

"So, Eliot said you're working at a hospital now?"

"Yeah. I was hired the day you were arrested, actually. I'm working in the ER, for right now."

"That's good. That's what you were doing when you first interned, isn't it?"

"It is."

They managed to spend the remainder of her visit talking about unimportant stuff, and she was fine with letting Nate direct the conversation. She managed to stay for an hour before they finally ran out of things to say, and she had to leave to make it to work on time. Eliot's army friend Shelly was swinging by to pick her back up and run her to the hospital, since her car was currently in the shop. She unplugged Hardison's little jammer thingy and shoved it in her purse.

"It was good of you to come, Victoria."

It didn't feel good of her. She felt almost guilty. He'd been in this place for six months, and she couldn't bring herself to come in before now. Oh well. She'd made it, finally. Eliot could stop his bitching now.

"Take care of yourself, Nate."

She hurried out after saying goodbye, not wanting to remain in the building longer than necessary. She'd just made it out the door when she was stopped by a guard with an overbearing attitude and an inability to stop staring at her chest. When he actually had the nerve to grab a cheek as she tried to brush past him, she lost it. Spinning around, she kneed him in the stomach, forcing him to his knees before punching him in the nose.

"Dr. Newton!"

She looked back to see Shelly hurrying up the walkway, and she bit back a groan of frustration. She'd liked Shelly the few times she'd met him, but he had that same overprotective streak Eliot did. If he got involved in this, she'd never make it to work on time.

"What's going on?"

"We're good, let's just go."

"You broke my nose, you bitch!"

The guard let loose string of expletives that had Newt spinning back around to glare at him, and Shelly itching to beat some manners into the man for speaking that way to a lady. That did NOT fly with him, and it sure as hell wouldn't fly with Eliot if he'd been here to pick her up himself.

"You grabbed my ass, moron!"

The man had…oh that was it. He definitely wasn't going to allow that to go unanswered. When Shelly tried to step around her, Newt grabbed his arm.

"You don't have time to kick his ass, and I took care of it, so let's just go. I still have to get to the hospital."

Shelly looked at her like she was crazy, but didn't dispute. He glared at the guard, a warning to anyone with eyes, before turning around and walking Newt back to the truck. Eliot's girl didn't need to know that he'd be back later, possibly with Eliot. Spencer would have his own opinions on the issue once he was filled in.

"You're not seriously planning on hanging out in the hospital for ten hours!"

Newt looked incredulously at the man who'd unbuckled his seat belt after pulling into the parking deck.

"Eliot asked me to stay with you for a reason."

"Eliot is a tad overprotective, in case you haven't noticed. And he asked you to drive me around while my car is in the shop, not stay with me."

Shelly started to say something, and then stopped. It would be just like Eliot to not tell the girl exactly what he was doing today, and why. With any luck, she need never see exactly why her car ended up at the mechanic's. And there was no reason to scare her. But not telling her also led to things like this: the woman willing to walk into a very public place where she could be easily reached by the man currently stalking her. He thought about telling Eliot to do this himself, but the entire reason he was playing babysitter this afternoon was so that Eliot could track down the man and take care of the problem.

"I'm coming in, so just deal with it, doc."

"You really want to spend 10 hours in an ER waiting room?"

He just stared at her, daring her to try to send him away again. Newt knew that look; it was the same look Eliot sent her way when he thought she was being unreasonable.

"Alright then. Just don't say I didn't warn you, and don't bitch to me when your ass falls asleep in those uncomfortable chairs."

Shelly just grinned at her as he climbed out of the Jeep and followed her into the hospital. After a quick stop at the security desk to let them know that the strange man was with her, and yes, he was going to be there the whole time, and they didn't need to arrest him, Newt left him to his own devices in the waiting area. Shelly waited until she was gone to pull out the photo in his pocket and show it to the guards. The more people keeping an eye out, the better.

L-L-L-L-L

"This must be my lucky day," They heard Nate saying as Sophie sat down and picked up the phone; "I get two visitors on the same day."

Eliot's phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the number. It was Shelly. He nodded to Hardison and stepped back slightly as he hit the talk button.

"Hey, Shelly, you get Newt to work okay?"

"He did what?!" Eliot very nearly shouted not a minute after he answered his phone. Hardison looked over at him, momentarily distracted from the conversation Nate and Sophie were having, but he waved the hacker off as he stepped into the other room. He listened, this time quietly, as Shelly repeated the events of the afternoon.

"Alright, I'm goin' over to that prison first thing in the morning. You wanna come with me?"

That was the great thing about Shelly, he didn't hesitate in agreeing. He was lucky the man was on leave at the moment: otherwise he might have had to call Quinn again, and he really didn't want to do that if he could avoid it.

"Good. Just stay with her for the afternoon. I haven't been able to pin Sanford down yet."

That man had been missing from Julian Santiago's property for two days now. It had been a shock, to say the least, when Santiago called him actually looking for him, rather than trying to get in touch with Newt again. The warning that Sanford had disappeared and Julian thought he'd been acting a little unhinged had been an inconvenience until he'd woken up early and found Newt's car practically destroyed; then it had become enough of a concern that he'd called in reinforcements so he could find the man.

And now, on top of all of that, some idiot guard at the prison Nate was held in had the nerve to grab Newt and then call her foul names? Not a chance in Hell was Eliot letting that slide. Newt might not have wanted Shelly to take care of it right then, but they were absolutely going back and handling it later. Odds were decent that the guard would be there; but he would have Hardison pull photos of all the guards on the duty roster today and tomorrow and have Shelly ID the man, just to be sure.

After stopping at the kitchen for a beer, he returned to the main room just in time to hear Nate refuse Sophie's outlandish escape plan. Sure, he could beat up a few people, and sure, Parker could bungee down an elevator shaft to taser the guards around Nate, but really, there was no way Sophie was both providing a distraction to steal something and then driving the getaway car. It was ridiculous.

"What'd I miss?" Parker asked as she walked in.

"Nate doesn't want to do it."

Listening to Nate and Sophie debating was enough to make him want to take out the ear bud and step on it.

"Look, Nate, you took the fall for us. Let us get you out."

Damn but the man could be stubborn. Oh well. If Nate didn't want to break out of prison, Eliot had better things to do than argue with the man. He had to find and take care of a demented stalker.

"Do I even want to know what this guy did to set you after him?" Hardison asked after he finally managed to pinpoint Richard Sanford's location.

"No. You don't wanna know what he did, and you don't wanna know what I'm gonna do, so forget you ever heard of this guy."

The hacker must have seen something in Eliot's face that convinced him to take the man seriously. He just nodded and erased the data from the computer. Eliot grabbed the printout and stalked out the door.

"Eliot, wherever you are, you need to get back now. Nate just found us a client in prison."

"I'm a little busy Hardison."

"Eliot, I'm not kidding. I need you back now; we've got to get you inside this prison. Someone just tried to kill a kid in here."

Damn! He knew he should have taken the ear bud out of his ear. Wait a minute, what the hell was a kid doing in the prison in the first place?

"Just get back, Hardison's got the information. I need you here now."

Eliot swore as he turned around. He was so close to taking care of Richard Sanford permanently, and getting at least this asshole off of Newt's radar, and he gets called back in. If this didn't turn out to be something serious, he was seriously going to hurt someone.

"Eliot, this is what we're here to do," and he ignored Nate as he drove. Nate may have taken the fall for them, but he was still not Eliot's favorite person. He'd lied to his team. And he still hadn't answered for what he did to Newt. Too much had happened, between Newt's kidnapping and Nate going to prison, for them to have time to settle that account. And no, seven years of having to live with what he'd done didn't count as sufficient punishment in Eliot's opinion.

"Alright, what the hell's going on?" he demanded as soon as he walked into Nate's apartment. He could feel his blood beginning to boil as Hardison brought them all up to speed. Innocent people in jail, who'd done nothing dangerous, or even what he considered wrong. Seriously, transporting alcohol across state lines? Just to line the pockets of crooked judges and this damned warden?

"Because they're citizens. They can't afford a lawyer, so they say 'yes sir'. They don't make waves. They're taught to trust the system."

Fine, he would go in. With any luck he would run into the guard who'd grabbed Newt's ass, and he'd be able to take out some of his frustration on the man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shelly spent the day watching the comings and goings of the ER waiting room. It wasn't the most stimulating assignment he'd ever had, but it was far from the worst. It had its moments. The funniest one was when Newton came out with a coworker on their meal break, and the other woman made her own assumptions when he joined them on the walk to the cafeteria.

"_You must be Eliot. My goodness, you're gorgeous! Victoria, why didn't you tell me your boyfriend was waiting for you?"_

_Shelly almost spit out the drink he'd just taken in at the declaration that he was Eliot, and at the mortified look on Newton's face. She managed to turn a truly impressive shade of red in just seconds._

"_Alright, Kate. First off, Eliot isn't my boyfriend, and second, this isn't Eliot. This is Shelly, a friend of his, who's decided he had to stalk me for the afternoon."_

_The woman she'd called Kate's gaze switched from admonishing to calculating almost instantly._

"_This isn't Eliot?"_

"_No ma'am, I'm not Eliot," he managed to save Newton from answering once he managed to swallow his drink._

_The glance she darted at his ring finger was no doubt meant to be sneakier that it actually was, and she immediately directed a bright smile at him once she noticed it was bare._

"_Hi. I'm Kate, a longtime friend of Victoria's. What brings you to our little hospital?"_

Kate had been entertaining, with her less than subtle hints as he ate with them. If he didn't think it would cause problems for Newton, he'd be tempted to take the woman up on her offers, but he had the feeling that Kate wasn't the type to really go for one night stands, and he sure as hell wasn't trying to make a commitment to the woman. So no, he would leave that one alone. It wasn't as if he was hurting for female companionship when he wanted it.

The rest of the evening hadn't been so entertaining, but it sure did beat lying under a hot sun for hours waiting for a target to come by. He did find hilarious what some people came to the ER for. There were some he could tell at a glance didn't have anything more serious than a virus, which wouldn't be fixed by the ER personnel. Didn't these people have regular doctors, or clinics, to go to for things like that?

Then of course there had been the truly ridiculous injuries, most caused by people doing stupid things. That there were still people who thought shoving items through orifices that were only ever intended as an exit was just baffling. Couple that stupidity with drunken frat boys and pledge week became that much more dangerous, as the one guy who came in with the wider end of a baseball bat protruding from his rear end. Shelly thanked God he'd never been that stupid.

There had been a few more serious cases that he could understand coming to the hospital. The gash on that one man's arm would require more than a few stitches. And the crash victims the medics brought in, those had been nasty. He'd seen the medics unloading the gurneys from the ambulances when he'd stepped outside to take Eliot's phone call.

Still, overall it had been a relaxed afternoon, even if his ass had fallen asleep like Newton predicted. He was ready to get out of the hospital, though, and get Newton back home so he could crash in Eliot's apartment. Why the man kept his own apartment when he was obviously living with the woman, Shelly didn't really get, but it was a free place for him to stay, so he wasn't going to complain.

He was surprised when it wasn't Newton who came through the doors, but her friend. She looked around for a brief second before her eyes landed on him, and she made a beeline straight to him.

"Victoria said you're Eliot's friend. You need to call him."

"What happened to her?"

He was immediately moving for the doors that separated the waiting room from the ER. He didn't care if he had to break the doors down to get in. It wouldn't be any more difficult to do that than other things he'd had to do on assignments. Kate trailed after him, practically jogging to keep up, and hurried to open the door before he could actually manage to do any damage to it.

"No, Victoria's fine! She's not hurt or anything. She just—she was working on one of the accident victims, and they didn't make it."

"Oh hell."

This wasn't the kind of thing he was really equipped to handle, and Eliot was out at that blasted prison posing as a doctor- something about someone trying to kill an innocent inmate?—or whatever the hell he was doing. Shelly was ready to handle someone actually trying to hurt another person, or this stupid stalker who seemed to think he was getting anywhere near Eliot's girl, but he was shite at the emotional stuff, and he knew it. This wasn't the kind of thing that could be made better by beating someone up or taking someone out.

Kate led him back to the doctor's locker room, and he found Newton sitting on a bench, looking completely zoned out. He considered himself lucky she'd gotten out of her scrubs already; at least he wouldn't have to deal with that. He was pretty sure Eliot would kill him if he found out he'd undressed his girl, no matter the reason.

"Alright Newton, let's get you home."

He might not be able to do much for her, but he could get her out of this hospital, and the fresh memories of what just happened, and get her home. If she wanted to bitch and complain, even lash out, he could handle that too. Anything else would just have to be dealt with by Eliot when he got back. Shelly hoped he got back soon.

"Is that the first time you lost a patient?" he asked after he managed to get her through the front door in one piece and place a glass of scotch in her hand. "Drink that," he ordered as an afterthought, and he watched her drain it in one go.

"Yeah, that's the first time I've lost a patient. Where's El?"

"He couldn't get back in town tonight. He hopes he'll get back tomorrow."

"Wonderful. Just my luck today."

"I'm hanging around until he gets here."

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"You're sweet, Shelly, but it's not necessary."

"I'm not leaving you alone tonight, Newton, so deal with it. I'll take the couch."

Instead of getting up and leaving him, as he'd expected, as soon as he had himself arranged on the couch she crawled up and curled herself around him.

"Don't even think about getting fresh, this is what I'd do with Eliot, and he's not here, so you're my substitute pillow."

He laughed at that, just a little, and relaxed as she curled around him more, carding his fingers through the hair that decided it just had to get in his face and try to choke him.

"That's fine with me, hon."

"Have you ever not been able to save people, Shelly?"

"Yeah. Yeah I have."

He could still see the faces of all of the men he'd served with and lost. They were his ghosts, with him as surely as the faces of everyone Eliot ever killed were with him. He knew what it was to lose.

"Does it ever get easier?"

"Do you want the truth, or a lie?"

She glanced up at him, before settling back down.

"Lie to me."

"It gets easier, with time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot was pissed now. Not ticked off the way he would be at Hardison, or Parker, for doing something stupid, but supremely, royally, pissed off. Newt needed him, and he was in freakin' Worcester, tracking down Richard Sanford. Damn that man. He'd never not been there before when she needed him for something, and the fact that he wasn't there now…..well, he'd heard Nate's comment that he didn't know who he was so pissed off at, but he hoped it wasn't him.

He wanted to get back to Boston, but this had to be taken care of before the man progressed beyond defacing cars. This wasn't harmless, and he'd seen firsthand what could happen to an object of obsession when it went beyond harmless. He wasn't about to just sit back and wait for Richard Sanford to try something more dangerous.

He'd followed Sanford out of Boston, trying to figure out where the hell the man was actually going. He was surprised to see him pull into a house that had a For Sale sign in the yard. It didn't look like anyone actually lived there. What was the man doing alone in an empty house?

He didn't have to wait long to find out. Not five minutes after Sanford entered the house, another car pulled into the driveway, and Eliot got the second shock of the evening. Sanford was secretly meeting with one of Julian Santiago's biggest rivals? He was starting to think Sanford must be brain damaged. No matter; that certainly made his job much easier. Now he wouldn't have to kill Sanford himself; he'd just have to get him back to Santiago's estate. This would be a piece of cake. And he might get a little payback in on the drive over.

It didn't take Eliot long at all to catch video of Sanford accepting money from his company, which he knew would be more than enough in Julian's eyes to condemn the man. He couldn't even bring himself to feel bad about what was almost sure to happen once he handed Richard Sanford over to the employer he was apparently trying to double cross. It was almost too easy to grab the man when he stepped out of the house, since he was the last to leave.

It felt really good to nail the man right in the jaw, a couple of times, before finally just knocking him unconscious and shoving him into the truck. If Sanford managed to regain consciousness during the ninety minutes it would take to drive out to the Santiago estate, Eliot would just have to knock him out again. As he expected, it didn't take much to convince Julian of Sanford's deceit, and the hitter was happy to leave the man to his internal affairs. Not even half an hour after he arrived at the Santiago estate, he was in his truck and on the way back to the house.

He honestly wasn't overly surprised when he walked in to find Shelly laid out on the couch, and Newt curled around him. His friend looked up at him when the door opened, but Newt thankfully didn't stir. If anything she just hugged the man harder.

"You get it taken care of?"

"Of course. Sanford won't be a problem for anyone else again."

"Good. I assume you've got this handled too?"

"Oh, I don't know, I think she looks pretty comfortable."

He smirked to hide the fact that he kind of wanted to bash his friend's face in for having his arms around Newt. He would question where that urge came from later. Right now he just wanted to sleep.

"She might be comfortable, but she cut off the circulation in my arm a few hours ago. Woman's as clingy as an octopus."

Shelly wasn't lying; Eliot could attest to that fact. He decided to take pity on his friend and managed, after some exertion, to pry Newt's grip loose, and he scooped the sleeping woman up, intent on carrying her into the bedroom.

"You can crash in the extra room, Shelly. That couch is murder on the back if you try to sleep on it."

"I'd noticed. I think I'll take you up on that offer."

"Good. And thanks for looking out for her tonight."

It had made all the difference in the world, to know that she was safe with Shelly watching over her while Sanford was loose and so much was going on. If he hadn't had that reassurance, he never would have gone out to that prison, no matter what Nate said. He made quick work of pulling back the bedclothes and laying her down before stripping down to his boxers and slipping into gym shorts and a t-shirt. He was ready for sleep himself. Tomorrow they would have to deal with trying to map out a prison that was- practically speaking-escape proof. And he had to make sure that some dimwitted guard didn't try to kill Billy Epping while in the infirmary. And he still had to get Shelly to ID the guard who'd grabbed Newt's ass and then threatened her. Tomorrow was set to be a busy day.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, just a quick note, consider this a late Christmas present, because I really wanted to have it up before Christmas, and just ran out of time. Also, this story is not rated M for a reason, so (author dodges people throwing things at her) this chapter is the most suggestive it's going to get. You've been warned: anyone hoping for Eliot smut is going to be disappointed, as I'm just not comfortable trying to write those kinds of scenes, and since writing isn't my career, I don't feel the need to try to force myself to get comfortable with writing those kinds of scenes. Reviews feed my narcissism.**

Newt couldn't remember the last time she was so busy. Shifts at the ER had left her so tired some nights that she couldn't even see straight. Had it really been almost two months since she started at the hospital? Kate had brought in cupcakes to mark the occasion.

She'd been so busy that she'd barely seen Eliot. Either things had really picked up with them, or she was just now noticing how busy they were because her schedule, while hectic, was at least set in the sense that she didn't travel out of town. She hadn't really realized how much time she spent on planes and out of the country with Julian.

That wasn't to say that she hadn't seen any of them: she'd had to treat Eliot for a number of minor injuries sustained during jobs. One rant in particular about a high school reunion and everyone else having a great time while he got punched and kicked came to mind. As for the others; her jaw had absolutely dropped when she saw Alec Hardison, hacker extraordinaire, playing the violin at a benefit concert for the people of Wadata. And he didn't suck. She'd almost choked on her cough drop when she recognized the man standing up to play the solo at the end of Scheherazade. What the hell were they doing running a con during a concert? She wasn't sure she even wanted to know.

Parker had taken to showing up at the oddest times. She'd come home from a shift and find the blonde thief in the strangest places in her house. Hanging upside down from the kitchen chandelier was actually the least strange place Newt had found her. The woman's love of cereal had led to Eliot keeping a supply handy so that she didn't raid his food. Newt didn't think she'd ever seen anyone pack away as much cereal as that woman did.

"Victoria, you ready to head out?"

Yes she was. She'd spent seven hours in surgery on a patient, and she was ready to go home, or possibly stop by McRory's and see Cora. They needed to plan another Girls' Night Out. After making sure her patient's chart was updated and that they were still sleeping, she stopped at her locker to grab her purse and headed out the door.

"What do you say to a good stiff drink tonight? I'm buying."

"If you're buying, I'd say that sounds like a plan. I know a pretty decent place."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She couldn't explain the urge she felt to destroy the blonde woman who was staring at Eliot like he was dipped in chocolate, but she couldn't deny it was there. She wanted to do serious damage to the skinny tramp inching ever closer to the man, and have the satisfaction of gouging her eyes out.

"You okay? You look like you're about to commit murder."

"I'm good, Kate. I just definitely want that drink now."

They seated themselves at the bar, Newt still staring at Eliot and his companion. It shouldn't piss her off nearly as much as it did, seeing Eliot with another woman. She had no romantic claim on the man; he was free to see who he liked. But the sight of this girl very nearly sitting on his lap made her want to rip the girl's arms out of her sockets and beat her to death with them.

"Hey Victoria, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," Eliot heard Cora's greeting and turned around with a sinking feeling in the pit of this stomach. Yeah, Newt had come in with what was probably one of her coworkers, and Kaye Lynn was practically sitting on him. Judging by how carefully Newt was NOT looking at him, he was pretty sure she'd seen them. Yeah, that wasn't good. He didn't know why he was feeling like he'd been caught doing something wrong, but he was. She couldn't have come in while Nate was still here, so she could see that nothing was going on?

"Everythin' alright?"

He turned his attention back to the women he'd only just been focused on. She was staring at him, and that expression held more than a hint of invitation. He shook his head.

"Everything's fine. But I think it's time we call it a night. We'll have a lot to do before we can leave. I'll drop you at your hotel."

He wouldn't leave Kaye Lynn on her own in Boston. He'd make sure she got back to her hotel safely. And tomorrow they would go out to Memphis, and they would take down this Kirkwood jackass, and he could come back home and figure out why he was so concerned with whether Newt thought he was picking up women.

"I'll take a scotch on the rocks, and make it a tall one," he heard Newt order. Uh-oh. She must be mad at him. If he left Nate's at all tonight, it might be safer to stay at the apartment. A glance back at her showed that she wasn't happy. She looked pissed off, and hurt. He caught her eye, and she immediately looked away, smiling at Cora when she was handed her drink.

"You sure? The night's still young," Kaye Lynn was asking.

"I'm sure. "

He didn't even feel like spending the night with her any more. He just wanted to get to Memphis and get done. It was dirty, what Kirkwood did to this poor girl's brother.

Newt looked up at the sound of chairs pushing back from the table, and saw Eliot walking off with the woman. That was fine. What he did with the tramp was nothing to her, so long as he took her back to his apartment and not her house. She drained the scotch quickly, earning an admiring look from Cora, and the sound of someone behind her clearing her throat. Wonderful. It was Sophie.

"You might want to take it easy on those, Victoria."

"What are you my mother now? It's only the first one so calm down."

The British woman blinked at her in surprise, and Newt vaguely wondered when was the last time someone dared to talk to Sophie like that. She was still not terribly forgiving for the fact that the woman took off for months to deal with her little identity crisis. Taking a couple weeks to clear your head, sure, but what Sophie did was not cool. Even if she did send a substitute so the group wasn't left high and dry.

"I'm glad I ran into you. Nate wanted to let you know that we'll be heading down to Memphis tomorrow. We'll be gone for a couple of days."

"Good for you. Have fun." Let Eliot enjoy his shiny new little toy. It wasn't like she actually cared. "Cora, can you get me another one? Actually just leave the whole bottle."

Now even Kate was looking at her with more than a little surprise.

"Is everything alright, Victoria?"

"Just peachy, Kate. You want some of this?" she asked as she refilled her glass from the bottle Cora left on the table after warning her that was all she was going to get.

"I wonder, could you give us a minute?" Sophie asked Kate, and Newt rolled her eyes. Was the woman planning on some type of bonding moment now? Or was she going to lecture on the dangers of alcoholism, considering that Newt was related to Nate, who did have a real problem with knowing when to say enough. Kate looked from the strange woman to her friend before nodding, and excusing herself to make a phone call. Sophie quickly took the vacated seat.

"I know what you saw, Victoria. He doesn't mean it you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about Eliot, and the girl he was with. He's not serious about her. She's our client."

"Eliot can see whoever he wants Sophie. I'm not his mother."

"He's completely devoted to you, Victoria. I hope you know that. I've never seen him with a woman the way I see him with you."

"Sophie, I don't know what you're fishing for, but it's a matter of complete indifference to me who Eliot chooses to see. He's a grown boy, this is a free country, and most importantly, we're not dating. If that's all you came for you can go back and tell Nate its fine."

"If it's fine, then why are you draining a bottle of 12 year old Glenfidditch like it's water?"

"I'm drinking because I had a seven hour emergency surgery today, that's why. It's nothing to do with Eliot."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe it or don't believe it. That's your problem."

Sophie leveled a look at her, but she was done talking about it. What Eliot did on his own time was none of her business, as long as he kept them out of her house. She refilled her cup, taking care to sip it slowly this time. She really didn't want to get drunk, and the scotch was twelve years old. If she didn't watch it, she would drink the bottle without realizing it, due to its smoothness. She didn't plan on letting it go to waste like that.

"You're not that good a liar, Victoria."

"Oh I am a far more gifted liar than you think, Sophie, but I happen to be telling the truth in this case. Now, did you want something else, or is this going to be variations on the same thing? Because if it's variations of a theme, I really do have better things to do."

Newt waved Kate back over when she saw that her friend had ended her phone call and was watching from across the room. Sophie stared at her a moment longer before finally taking the hint and leaving. She was sure that more was going on with Eliot and Nate's daughter than the woman was willing to say.

L-L-L-L

Eliot was nervous. Really nervous. Not only did he have to get up and sing in front of a bunch of people at a country bar, but Sophie had cornered him at the hotel and started going on about Newt. At least, he thought she was talking about Newt. It was a little hard to understand her rant about fleeting attractions, the best relationship he would ever have, and not cocking it all up. From what he was able to make out, she'd run into Newt not long after he'd taken Kaye Lynn to the hotel, and didn't believe whatever Newt had told her. He thought. Maybe.

He turned around in surprise when Parker snuck up on him. She couldn't believe it either.

"I startled you!" she said in amazement.

"You're a cat burglar. That's what you do."

"Parker, he's nervous," Sophie informed the thief. Wonderful. He really wanted Parker to know that he was nervous. Hardison was going on about something that his sounds system thingy was doing. He was funny with the Darth Eliot thing, but he was going to get his ass kicked for the Spencer Smurf crack.

"Hardison."

"Don't ever do the Smurf thing again?"

"Right."

He wasn't going to stand here working himself up. He still needed to get that stupid bridge that just didn't want to cooperate. He headed back to the green room to find Kaye Lynn waiting for him. The poor girl was even more nervous than he was.

"That song that you're about to play—that's the only thing me and my brother have that Kirkwood hasn't stolen. And if I lose that—"

"You're not gonna lose it. We're gonna get your money and your music."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because this is what we do."

He went back to strumming, and bit back a curse when he missed the bridge again.

"You're still havin' trouble with that bridge?"

He hadn't expected Kaye Lynn to sit on his lap and take over the guitar. It was hard to concentrate when she tossed her hair to one side, and he could smell her perfume. It had been awhile since he'd been this close to a woman he wasn't trying to seduce for a job, except for Newt.

Kenneth Crane was finally called out to the stage, so he left Kaye Lynn and took his seat on the barstool. There were a lot of people out there watching him, but it was harder to see them with the lighting in his face.

"This is a song I wrote, about the road not traveled."

He kept his eyes focused on the guitar and the floor, tuned only to the cords he was playing and the words he was singing. It really was a great song. When he'd worked with Kaye Lynn on the chords, his thoughts had turned to Aimee, but now Aimee was gone completely. The words applied to so much more than his failed relationship. They applied to Emma, who he'd cut off for years. They applied to a hell of a lot in his life, actually. Before he knew it, he was completely absorbed in the music in a way he rarely was, and the song was actually over. He didn't even know what Nate had actually been buzzing about in his ear as he sang.

The applause was deafening. People who'd been sitting were now standing and screaming "his" name. He was pretty sure the smirk had been wiped off Hardison's face, since they hadn't had to use his little technical thingy. He'd told them he could sing.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey Victoria, you've got to hear this guy."

Newt looked up from the cookie dough she was mixing. Kate had been teaching her to bake, and the woman had a lot more patience than Eliot when it came to the kitchen. So far the cookie dough was turning out alright.

"Seriously, get your butt over here. I'm not a country fan or anything, but my cousin posted this guy's singing on YouTube. You've got to hear this man."

Newt turned off the mixer and wiped her hands on the closest hand towel before heading into the living room, where Kate was set up with her laptop. She and Kate had quite differing tastes in music, and the poor girl was almost tone deaf. She had the sinking feeling that she would have to plug her ears to get through whatever song Kate wanted her to hear. She froze, stunned stupid, when the video Kate played was a video of Eliot. What the hell was he doing on the internet?! He was wanted in three countries! Not to mention that Sterling Jackass was still trying to find any excuse to arrest them!

"You know, he kind of looks like that guy at the bar last night that you were glaring at."

"Son of a bitch, I guess he does."

"He's good, this Kenneth Crane."

"He doesn't suck."

This was what they were doing in Memphis? There was some compelling reason Eliot had to get up on stage and sing in front of people in order to help the tramp he'd taken home last night? She wasn't sure she even wanted to know. Shaking her head, she decided to stop worrying about what (or who) Eliot did, and just listened to him singing. It reminded her of the nights he would pull out his guitar and pick at it while she would read one of her medical journals, nights when they had nothing else they had to do and nowhere else they had to be. It had been a long time since they'd had one of those nights. Too long.

When had they stopped doing that? When had they stopped just spending time together, period? No wonder Eliot was taking home some girl he'd just met. He wasn't like her, happy just having her friends there, whatever they were doing. He liked to do things, and go places, and she couldn't just take off anymore like she could when she worked for Julian. He had to be tired of spending all his free time with her, doing nothing.

Eyes stinging, she darted back into the kitchen as soon the song was over, and went back to the cookies. She was NOT going to burn those suckers. She might suck at cooking, but she would be damned if she didn't at least learn to bake a batch of frickin' cookies! And she would be damned if she let Eliot Hilary Spencer make her cry!

L-L-L-L

Finally, he got the chance to punch Kirkwood! It was so very satisfying to hit the man right in the solar plexus and put him down. The bastard wouldn't be able to steal anyone else's life's work or end any more lives. Kaye Lynn had definitely gotten the attention of the bigwigs in the audience: she was surrounded by producers and managers while Eliot stood waiting for Hardison to finally get the master recording that had been left behind. Nate handed him the tape before Kaye Lynn managed to slip away from the pople surrounding her and approach him.

"There's a lotta A & R's that wanna talk to me!"

He couldn't help it; the girl's easy excitement was infectious. He handed her the tape, happy she was going to get her shot to do what she obviously loved. She had the talent to make it.

"For your trip to Nashville."

"You could come with me, you know. You're a natural born country music star if I ever saw one. We could be the next Johnny and June."

He grinned, but shook his head. There wasn't a chance that he would ever be able to do something that public, not with the things he'd done, and the people that were after him.

"You know there are some roads you go down, you can't come back. I'm about a hundred miles down one of 'em."

He gave in to the impulse to kiss her. He felt bad that he'd led her on enough that she thought they might have some sort of future as a couple. He wanted to let her down easily. She was a sweet girl, if a bit innocent in her ideas about him. Even if he could have gone to Nashville and been some kind of country star, he couldn't imagine doing it with her. He was about a hundred miles down a road that had another woman at the end of it.

He couldn't begin to guess when it had happened, but in the middle of making out with Kaye Lynn last night it hit him: he didn't want the woman in his arms, he wanted Newt. Somewhere in 20 years of events he'd managed to fall for his best friend. That was why he'd been so upset at the sight of Shelly holding her and at the thought that she might think he and Kaye Lynn were doing something they weren't. It was why he'd been so nuts at the guard that had grabbed her, and the Sanford corpse that had actually tried to hurt her. How the hell had that happened?

He was eager to be back in Boston after his little epiphany last night. He had no idea if Newt felt what he did, but he would leave it to her. He wasn't going to push for anything. He just wanted to be home, and home was with Newt.

She wasn't home when he got back. She had another couple hours left on her shift, if he remembered correctly. He threw his clothes in the washing machine, and then stopped at the kitchen to grab a beer. The house was so much better than his apartment. He stopped short when he saw a cookie jar on the counter. Newt didn't have a cookie jar sitting out. She didn't have cookies, unless he made them or she bought them. He opened the lid and pulled out a cookie. These were homemade, not store bought. This cookie didn't come from Pillsbury. Had Newt learned to make cookies while he was gone? Why hadn't she asked him to teach her?

Grabbing a few more cookies, he took a seat on the couch and pulled up the recorded programs on the TV. He was pretty sure there was an MMA fight he had yet to watch on the list. He'd finally get a chance to see it while he waited for Newt to come home. He never noticed when his eyes started to drift closed. He woke to the sound of the door slamming shut. It wasn't a terribly hard slam, more the sound of a door that she couldn't shut with her hands so she kicked it closed. He must have fallen asleep on the couch waiting for her.

"Newt?"

"You're back already?" she asked from the kitchen. "I expected you'd be gone at least another day."

"We got the job done, and I wanted to get home," he answered as he pushed himself up from the couch. "How was the hospital?"

"It was good. No emergency surgeries today, just the usual broken bones and burns from idiots trying to do stupid stuff, and the people who don't have regular doctors so they come to the ER for their illnesses. I saw your video on YouTube, by the way. Might want to have your hacker get on that."

Now that she was standing in front of him, he wasn't exactly sure where to start. How exactly did one tell their best friend of 20 years that you loved them?

"El? You okay?"

"I'm good. I just—I wanted to talk to you about somethin'."

"Okay-"

After a couple of starts and stops, without being able to find the right words, he finally just kissed her. His fingers laced through her hair to hold her in place as he took his time, exploring her mouth once she opened it to his gentle insistence. This was exactly what he wanted, what had been missing with Kaye Lynn, and every other woman he'd had, and it was better than he'd imagined it would be. This was real intimacy, knowing the other person as well or better than you knew yourself.

He could practically feel the dopey grin he knew was on his face when they finally broke apart. At some point he'd closed his eyes, so he never saw the slap coming, but he felt it. He opened his eyes, his hand flying to his face in shock, to see tears in hers. What the hell?

"What was that for?!"

"Damn you, Eliot Spencer!"

"Newt—"

"I thought better of you than that!" she yelled angrily. "I've been you're best friend for over 20 years! I don't deserve to have you play with me!"

This time he saw the slap coming, and managed to catch her arm. She thought he was just messing around?

"I'm not playin' with you, darlin'."

He tried to kiss her again, but she pulled away.

"Let me go, you Jackass!"

Instead he caught her other hand, keeping her from leaving him.

"Newt, I'm not playin' any games. I want this with you. I love you."

"The hell you do! I saw you with that girl the other night, so don't you dare come in here and say you love me!"

Oh hell. He knew what she saw looked bad.

"You saw me leavin' the bar with her, that's all. I dropped her off at her hotel, and spent the night at Nate's 'cause we had so much to do before we went to Memphis. Nothin' happened with Kaye Lynn, I swear."

"I saw her practically sitting on your lap and you doing nothing to push her away, so don't tell me—"

He stopped her with another kiss, enjoying the feel of her against him, even as she tried to push him away. He couldn't undo the things he'd done before, but he hoped he could at least convince her that she hadn't seen anything inappropriate, and that he meant what he was saying to her now.

"Don't do this, Eliot," she practically begged when he finally let her go. "Don't tell me stuff like this when you'll only change your mind later. I'm not what you want—"

"You're exactly what I want, Victoria Elizabeth Newton," he countered, leaning so that his forehead rested against hers, "And I'm not gonna change my mind. I don't know when it happened, but somewhere in the last 20 years I fell head over heels for you. But if you tell me that you don't feel the same way, this never happens again."

"Eliot—"

"Tell me you don't want me, and I'll go."

"Damn you," he barely heard the whisper, "don't break my heart."

"Not as long as I'm breathing," he promised, his hair starting to fall into his face. He didn't even bother to push it out of the way as he picked her up and backed down the hallway to the bedroom.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Newt woke slowly, feeling the residual soreness that comes from strenuous physical activity. That soreness and the fact that she was in bed with Eliot, naked, was the only proof that last night hadn't been some strange dream brought on by deprivation and too many chick flicks with Kate and some of the other women at the hospital. But no, she was in fact in bed, naked, and Eliot's arms were still wrapped around her while his head was pillowed on one breast. Once they'd finally given in to exhaustion, Eliot hadn't stirred. Not a single nightmare woke either of them.

She could feel him stirring into wakefulness and quickly shut her eyes. Let him think she was still asleep. She wasn't sure she was ready to face the reality of what they'd done, and the changes it would mean for them. She couldn't bear to lose her best friend because she hadn't been able to stop herself from falling into bed with him.

"I can feel you thinking," he muttered sleepily as he lifted his head to look up at her and give her a lazy good morning kiss. "And I'm wonderin' if I should be insulted that you can wake up from what we did with your mind still processin' a mile a minute."

She smiled, and he pushed himself up the bed so that he was lying beside her, and pulled her against his chest.

"So what's going through that mind of yours?"

"I'm just wondering what happens next," she answered him honestly. She'd been wondering it the night before as she fell asleep, and it was the first thought in her mind when she woke up. Eliot could judge from her expression that she was in her serious thinking mode. She wasn't taking this lightly, which was good, but it had him wondering how she would feel about his next suggestion. He had very firm ideas about what he thought they should do now.

"Well, I've got at least three days off, and unless somethin's changed you're off the schedule for a few days. I was thinking that we could go down to Virginia, and see your dad and Emma. And I was thinkin' that, if you want, we could get married while we're down there."

"Married? Are you—are you asking me to marry you?"

"Yeah I am."

She stared up at him, incredulous.

"Eliot—are you sure about this? I mean, this is great and it's been a long time since I was so blissfully happy, but you don't think you're moving a bit fast here?"

"Fast?"

He actually had to laugh a little at that. It had taken 20 years, more than 20, to get this point, and she thought it was moving fast? When he saw that she was waiting for an actual answer, he shrugged.

"I want to marry you, Newt. I love you, and have for years, even if I didn't say it. I love sharin' my life with you, and comin' home at the end of a job to find you waitin' for me, and I want to come home to you every night for the rest of my life. I could wait until I've gone to a store and bought a big diamond to hand to you on bended knee, but waitin' won't change what I want. If you want the same thing, I don't see why we shouldn't go ahead and do it. I should have asked you years ago, and I don't want to waste anymore time, so I'm asking you now. Marry me?"

He wasn't sure how to take the fact that her eyes welled up and she had to look away. Was that a good sign, or a bad one? It was a relief when she finally looked back at him with a smile on her face.

"I'd love to marry you, Eliot Spencer."


	16. Chapter 15

Eliot grabbed their bags from the carousel with one hand, and took Newt's in the other. He hadn't let go of it the entire flight down. It still didn't seem possible that Newt had agreed to marry him. He hadn't given her time to change her mind; he'd booked the plane tickets and hotel room while she was in the shower. She'd looked bemused when he told her to pack a bag, but she did it without saying a word. They were in the air before 10 am.

"Did you call Dad and Emma?"

"I thought we'd surprise 'em. They wouldn't believe it if we told 'em anyway."

She smiled at that. It was true. Emma had occasionally hinted that they might as well get married since they acted like an old married couple all the time, but no one had ever taken the suggestion seriously. Emma would just ask him if he was concussed if he called her up and told her they were flying down to Virginia to get married.

"I called Maggie. She's coming. I didn't tell Nate, or any of the others."

He'd figured she'd keep it quiet. He didn't mind. Much as he liked them, it was none of their business, and he wasn't a hundred percent sure that Nate wouldn't try to stop them. He'd called Shelley, but it was up in the air whether he would make it. It was enough to have Newt's dad and his sister there when they got married. They didn't need anybody else.

The line for the rental car was thankfully short, and it wasn't long at all before they were at the hotel, and Eliot was checking in Mr. and Mrs. Russell. He wasn't about to risk getting busted using his own name, or an alias that Hardison could track. They'd already tried to call him, and he'd turned off his phone. He left the ear bud behind, too. He didn't care what big emergency Nate came up with. They'd done job after job after job, and this was the first time off they had in over a month. There would always be another person in need of help. That didn't mean that they could keep going without stopping.

He had time off, damn it, and he was going to take it. He had five days cleared of everything except getting married and taking what would probably have to pass for their honeymoon, at least until they could go back to the beach house. He wasn't taking any chance that Nate or Sophie would show up knocking on their hotel door. He was going to be absolutely unreachable until they got back to Boston.

"Should I think you've already planned all this out?" Newt asked him as he dropped their bags on the coffee table.

"Wasn't much planning required. We get the license today, call everyone and let 'em know what's going on, and tomorrow we get married. Then we come back here and don't step foot outside the hotel until we get ready to go back to Boston."

The blush that comment got was endearing, and she turned away to hang the garment bags in the closet. He left Newt to explore the rest of the suite while he unpacked his bag and put stuff away. The bedroom had a single king sized bed, which suited him just fine. The living room was plenty large enough, and if he wasn't mistaken there was a whirlpool in the bathroom. Money bought a lot of things on short notice, including the penthouse suite at the hotel and a personal concierge. They wouldn't have to step foot out of the room if they didn't want to, and he didn't plan on going anywhere after the wedding.

"So what, are we just going to a justice of the peace?"

"You let me worry about all of that."

He stepped up behind her and pushed her hair out of the way to drop a kiss on the back of her neck.

"You just worry about signing your name on the application for the license, and then I've got you booked into the spa for a massage this evening."

"You spoil me, Eliot."

"That's the plan. Are you ready to do this?"

"Absolutely."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eliot waited until Newt was checked in with the spa before he made his way back up to the room and pulled out his cell phone. This was one call he didn't plan on making with her around. He waited, nervously, for the call to pick up.

"Spencer? Is everything alright? Is Victoria hurt or something?"

"Sir, I—"

"Sir?! Did you get hit in the head or something? What's going on?"

"I—I—"he mentally ordered his reflection to get it together as he stared in the mirror. He was determined to do this right. "I'm calling to ask you for the very great privilege of your daughter's hand in marriage."

He could tell he'd stunned the other man. There was complete silence on the other end of the phone. He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he was hit with the terrible need to get oxygen into his body. He started to wonder if the call hadn't been dropped, until he heard Alex sigh audibly.

"She's already said yes, hasn't she?"

"She has. But I know how much it would mean to her to know she has your blessing. We're here in Virginia, and we'd like you to be a part of it."

"What exactly are you planning?"

L-L-L-L

Newt still wasn't entirely sure how it happened that she was in Macy's with Maggie, looking for lingerie, but at least it wasn't Emma. She'd never get through the mortification of having Emma pick out lingerie for her, not when it would be Emma's brother seeing her wear it. They'd already looked in a number of stores, but Maggie vetoed almost everything she saw. "You're getting married, not trying to pick up a john" was a refrain she'd heard in every store, and she was inclined to agree with the woman. She wanted to look hot; she didn't want to look like she should be standing on a street corner. That was apparently a very delicate balance to strike, and it wasn't working out in their favor. An overly helpful saleswoman guided them to the appropriate section of the store, and started retrieving items.

"This is much better," Maggie commented as they reached the Intimates section. "How many nights are you staying?"

"Three more nights, I think. I have to be back to work by Thursday."

"Perfect. We're starting with this then," she grabbed the white lace paneled corset and garter belt the sales woman brought and shoved them into Newt's arms, "Go try it on, and we'll see if it holds well enough that you can wear it under the dress. Go!"

She knew her face was flaming red as the employee showed her the dressing room and told her to call out if she needed any help getting it on. Like hell she was letting some strange woman hook her into a corset. She struggled into it, fighting it for several frustrating minutes before she finally gave up. Fortunately, Maggie chose that moment to walk back with her other selections, and in no time at all she was standing in a corset and her jeans, her ex-stepmother staring at her critically.

"Perfect. We'll take it."

"Great. Right now we'll take it off; I can hardly breathe in this thing."

It didn't take long to try on the other things Maggie had brought back with her, and she was finally allowed to get back into her own clothes. Maggie paid for everything, despite her protesting that she had plenty of money. Damn, but the woman could match Nate for stubbornness.

Newt expected that to be the end of it, but no. Before she knew what was going on, she was dragged into Sephora, and sitting on a chair while Maggie and the employee whose name she didn't even catch stared at her face before the lady attacked her with a wet wipe, removing the tinted moisturizer she'd barely remembered to throw on when Eliot and Maggie woke her up. After sampling two different foundations that neither of them found satisfying (apparently her own opinion wasn't to be considered) she was subjected to a little machine that took pictures of different points on her face and gave the code for what she was assured would be her perfect shade. These people took their makeup very seriously.

"Maggie, I'd better be able to recognize myself in the mirror when this is over."

"You'll look just like you, only flawless," the lady promised before she went to work, and Newt had to sit with her eyes closed while her face was assaulted. She lost count of the number of products that were applied to her face, and she shuddered to think how much all of this stuff cost. Sephora wasn't exactly an inexpensive store. When she was finally allowed to look in the mirror, she did have to admit that she did look like herself, which was a relief. She didn't even bother to protest when Maggie said they would take one of everything, and again paid for it. It's not as if the woman was listening to them anyway.

Once they were handed the receipt, Maggie quickly herded her out of the mall and into the car. Newt watched nervously as the older woman pulled up the car's GPS and started pushing buttons. Eliot still hadn't told her exactly what he'd planned for this wedding, and she had no idea where they were going. She hadn't been told anything as she was herded out of the suite. The only thing she knew for sure was that they were headed out of the city.

She started to recognize the scenery after half an hour's driving, and sure enough, the car turned on the road to her dad's property. Five minutes later they were pulling to a stop in front of the house, and her dad was waiting for her on the top of the porch. White tulle and flowers covered all of the porch rails, and she wondered how on earth Emma had managed to do so much when Eliot had only called her last night. Newt climbed out of the car, flabbergasted at the transformation.

"Hey dad. Surprise!"

She tried for a smile, but it fell flat as she tried to take everything in. Alex Newton jogged down the steps to meet her at the car when she stopped trying to move forward, and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Are you sure about this, honey?"

"Do you have something against Eliot, dad?"

"Not at all. I just want you to be sure this is what you want, not what you think everyone else expects."

"I'm sure, daddy. This is what I want."

"Alright then. You can take all this stuff up to your room, Emma's waiting for you."

She grabbed the Macy's bag before he could even reach for it and headed inside, barely hearing Alex introduce himself to Maggie. Emma wasn't waiting for her in her room, the woman was stomping her foot impatiently at the top of the stairs.

"It's about time you showed up! We only have an hour so get your butt in here!"

Newt didn't have much choice as Emma grabbed her by the hand and tugged her into the room. She was pushed down into the seat at her vanity and her hair was pulled out of its ponytail. Curling irons and other implements of death were already heating up on the vanity and Newt eyed them warily. She wasn't a fan of really messing with her hair unless she absolutely had to.

"Don't you dare!"

They were stopped by Maggie's order coming from the doorway.

"Don't you touch her hair until she gets out of those clothes or it'll be ruined by the time she gets into the dress. You, whoever you are, shoo, right now. Come back in five minutes."

Emma looked to Newt, but she just shook her head. Emma left with a huff and Newt looked to Maggie with a grateful smile. The older woman pulled the dread corset from the Macy's bag, and the smile vanished.

"Alright, strip."

When Emma came back exactly five minutes later, Newt was sitting back on the bench in a long satin robe, looking ready for the electric chair. At least the corset was covered up so Emma wouldn't see it. She felt almost naked in just the robe and lingerie. She tuned out the conversation going on between Maggie and Emma over what to do with her hair.

Reality was beginning to set in, though it still felt completely unreal. In less than an hour, she was going to marry Eliot. She couldn't believe that they were really getting married. She'd never given serious thought to being Mrs. Eliot Spencer, despite Kate's joking about it. She hadn't really given thought to marrying anyone after Ryan died. Her attention was jerked back to the present with a very real jerk of her hair.

"I'd love it if we could not scalp me while you do this. That would really be great."

By the time they finished, the normally wild waves curls were tamed into a semblance of order, and Maggie was again chasing Emma out of the room. Newt stood up, relishing the chance to stretch the muscles that had bunched up from having to sit on a bench for forty-five minutes, and stared at the dress laid out on the bed before reaching out to touch the delicate looking lace. She was finally going to wear the dress that had been hanging in the closet for seven years. The first order of business was to slip on the stockings and get them hooked to the garter strings, a feat she couldn't accomplish on her own, and then slip on the shoes (and she was so happy she'd been sensible enough to choose flats). The dress was easily slipped over her head without damaging Emma's hard work, and zipped up the back. The final touch was the veil pinned to the back of her head with a band of fresh flowers before Maggie finally declared her ready.

"You look so beautiful, Victoria. I know Nate will be sorry he missed this."

"Yeah, well, we couldn't take the chance that Nate wouldn't try to kill the groom. He'll get pictures if he wants them, after he calms down."

There was a soft knock on the door, and it was cautiously opened by Alex Newton, holding a bouquet. Maggie took the opportunity to slip out the door, nodding at the warning that they were starting in ten minutes. Newt could hear the soft strains of what sounded like cello playing wafting up the staircase. Where had Eliot gotten a cellist?

"You look stunning."

Damn it, she wasn't supposed to tear up! She was not going down those stairs looking like she'd been crying! Maggie would never forgive her if she ruined her makeup now!

"Eliot hasn't run off yet, has he?" She tried to break the serious mood setting in.

"Emma would have his balls if he tried it. He's waiting for you, and looking entirely too damn pleased with himself about it."

At some unseen signal Alex handed her the bouquet before pulling the door completely open and offered his arm. Newt took it, along with a deep breath, and started the slow descent down the stairs.

XXXXXXXXXX

Eliot stood waiting, resisting the urge to pull at the collar of his shirt. It felt like it was getting tighter as he waited for Newt to come down the staircase on Alex's arm. The last time he'd worn this tux had been at Emma's wedding. Shelly was standing at his side, making cracks about cold feet under his breath so the others couldn't hear him. The other man knew exactly what he needed at the moment, and Eliot was beyond thankful that his friend had made it, and that he didn't have to stand up here alone.

Jason was sitting with the kids on the chairs that had been hastily appropriated from the dining room table and set in rows, just staring at him. Maggie was sitting on the other side, next to the empty chair he'd been told was reserved for Alex. Eliot had wondered if his father might come, but it didn't look like it. He knew Emma had made the phone call.

As soon as he'd given Emma the news, she'd completely taken over planning this event. After yelling at him for giving them such short notice, she'd promptly hung up on him, calling back an hour later to say that everything was arranged and they were getting married at Alex's house whether they liked it or not, and all his plans were thrown out the window. He'd had to threaten her with running off to Vegas and eloping just to keep it to the small ceremony both he and Newt wanted.

He had no idea who some of these people were that were roaming the house, and it instinctively set him on edge. If anyone wanted to try to get to him, now would be the best time, when his guard was so down. Just because they'd been careful to cover their tracks didn't mean that they hadn't been found out. How the hell had Emma managed to find people to cater food, and even show up with a wedding cake? There was something incredibly wrong with his sister to think that all of this was necessary. Maybe Newt's suggestion of getting on a cruise ship and having the captain marry them as soon as they hit international waters would have been easier.

He'd shown up at the house in time to get conscripted into helping set up chairs, and wrap tulle around porch rails. Shelly had graciously taken over that duty when the minister arrived to grill him on the seriousness of his commitment, and the need to find a church for themselves when they got back home. He was just happy that Alex's friend wasn't a Catholic. He had nothing against the Catholic Church but he was pretty sure that if he confessed all his sins, he wouldn't be getting married today. No amount of penance would make up for the things he'd done, but he wouldn't put it past a priest to give it a good effort. And he couldn't have asked for a better musician than the minister's wife, who was displaying her talent on the cello.

He hadn't seen Newt since Maggie whisked her off to do all the stuff that women had to do before a wedding (He wasn't sure he wanted to know what that entailed, but if couldn't recognize Newt when she finally showed up he was going to kill Maggie and Emma). As soon as Maggie's rental car was spotted pulling up to the house he was herded into Alex's room to get changed, and ordered not to come out until he was told the coast was clear. It had taken him less than half an hour to shower and get dressed, but the one time he'd opened the door Chris had been waiting outside to shoo him back in. His sister had set her own child on him to keep him in line. Emma wasn't taking any chance that the bride and groom would see each other before the wedding.

"Here she comes," Shelly nudged him when Emma walked out carrying a single long stemmed calla lily. Following his sister was Newt, on Alex's arm, and Eliot thought his heart just might stop beating. He hadn't expected her to look so amazing. The lace of the dress matched the lace of the veil through which she was smiling at him. Unlike so many dresses he'd seen this one was modest, and exactly what he'd expect of her if he'd thought about it. He thought she'd never looked more perfect: like an angel. And she'd picked him.

"Who gives this woman to be married?"

"I do."

With that, Alex kissed Newt through her veil before placing her hand in Eliot's. He squeezed her fingers tightly before turning his attention to the minister. Her hand was cool to the touch, without a single tremor. If she was nervous, it didn't show.

"Do you, Victoria Elizabeth Newton, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Her answers were sure, with no sign of hesitation, and she was staring directly at him. She became his entire existence in that moment. He didn't hear Emma start to sniffle, or the fidgeting of the kids, or even the background noises of the ranch. It was just him and Newt, and nothing else in the world mattered.

"I, Eliot Hilary Spencer, take thee, Victoria Elizabeth Newton, to be my lawfully wedded wife: to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to comfort for as long as we both shall live."

He meant every word of it. He'd never taken a vow as seriously as he took this one. This woman was placing her trust in him; trusting him with her life, her future, her happiness, and he didn't intend to let her down. He'd never made this promise before, and he didn't plan to ever make it again.

"I, Victoria Elizabeth Newton, take thee, Eliot Hilary Spencer, to be my lawfully wedded husband: to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to comfort for as long as we both shall live."

There would be no rings—it was too dangerous for him to wear one. She would keep her last name so that to the outside world there was no immediate connection to Eliot Spencer. But they were pledging their vows, and the minister was pronouncing them man and wife. Even if they could never publicly be Mr. & Mrs. Spencer, they were married. It was more than Eliot had ever thought to hope for.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

He had to shake his wife awake after the drive back to the hotel. It had taken more than two hours before they'd been able to get away, after the requisite food and cake cutting. Then Emma had dragged everything as long as she could just to torture him, he was sure. He didn't even waste time with parking the car, instead pulling up to the curb and tossing the keys to the valet before scooping Newt, wedding dress and all, into his arms and carrying her into the hotel. He ignored the whistles and clapping and congratulations from the hotel guests they passed, not putting her down until they were in the elevator going back up to the penthouse. The moment the doors closed he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was still a novelty to know that he could kiss her whenever he wanted to now. She almost dropped the department store bag she'd been clutching the entire car ride in her eager response.

Getting into the room proved a challenge, as he didn't want to let go of Newt long enough to fish out his key card and open the door. He finally had to when she reminded him that neither of them were exhibitionists, and they weren't the only room on the floor. As soon as he pushed the door open he picked her back up and carried her across the threshold.

Tuxedo jacket and tie went flying across the room, and he didn't care where they landed, as they moved through to the bedroom. Her flats and his shoes were the next casualties as they worked on undressing each other without breaking the lip lock. When he stood in just his shirt and pants, he finally broke the kiss to turn her around and work on the zipper. Getting her out of the dress was the next important step in the process. He was speechless at what he found once he pushed the dress off her shoulders and down her body.

"What have we here?" he asked when he could finally talk again.

"Maggie picked all this stuff out."

"Well Maggie is my new favorite person. Now, Mrs. Spencer, I think it's time for bed. What do you think?"

"I think you talk too much."

XXXXXXXXX

They only left the penthouse once, to have dinner with everyone the day before they were flying back. Those few days were absolute paradise, and Eliot was as reluctant to leave their haven as Newt, but the time flew far too quickly. All too soon they were on a plane bound for Boston, but this time they would be going back to THEIR house.

He knew it would take some adjustment to work everything out. They may have been practically living together before, but going back to the real world meant going back to a job that meant putting himself in harm's way on a constant basis. Now that they were married, every time he put himself at risk he would have to consider Newt in a way that he never had before. He wouldn't trade it for anything though.

It made a real difference, walking through the front door of the house and knowing that now it was his as much as it was hers. It made everything more real. He would have to work on moving his stuff from the apartment, and making the master bedroom theirs, but that was something to worry about another day. His voicemail was full of calls from everyone except Parker, but he intended to ignore those for just one more day. They had one more evening and night before they had to worry about their regular lives, and either of them had to go back to work. Eliot was going to make the most of every minute of it. Tomorrow would be soon enough to let everything else intrude.


	17. Chapter 16

Newt looked up when Eliot walked through the door. He'd been gone for ten days straight, and she'd missed him. They'd both been incredibly busy as soon as they got back from Virginia, but this was the first time he'd been gone so long. The first thing he did was pull her into a tight embrace, kissing her, but she felt him wince when she returned the hug. She pulled away to look at him critically.

"You look like hell."

"I'm alright."

"The hell you are."

She pulled him into the bedroom, stopping only long enough to turn off the stove so she didn't set the house on fire. Once inside she helped him pull off his shirt, and sucked in a breath when she saw the extensive bruising.

"Baby, this is not alright."

"I had a run in with a couple people. That's all."

"It looks like you had a run in with the terminator."

"I'm fine darlin'. I promise."

She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder before dropping a kiss on a bruise.

"Not yet. But you will be. Come on."

He let her pull him into the bathroom, and when she started running hot water into the bathtub he smiled and started pulling off the rest of his clothes.

"You'd better be joinin' me in here."

"That was kind of the plan, babe."

"Good."

The water was just short of scalding, exactly the way he liked it. It didn't take long for Newt to slide in behind him, and as she brought up the loofah and started lathering him down he again breathed a prayer of thanks for the whirlpool garden tub the master bath came with (and that had been a most pleasant discovery when he officially moved in). It would be a lot more difficult to maneuver in a standard sized bath tub. He'd definitely missed this while they were gone. He hadn't been able to call as much as he wanted while they were away, and only once when he'd called had she not been on a shift at the hospital. He'd gotten spoiled in a short time. This was definitely the highlight of his last ten days.

He leaned back against her as she started massaging muscles and the whirlpool jets started working. She'd done this for him frequently, but never like this. They were both much freer with their touches and expressions now. Everything took on a more intimate tone now that they were married.

"You don't have to work tonight, do you?"

"No. I've already had my rotation on the night shift. I shouldn't work another night for six weeks. You've got me all to yourself tonight."

"Good."

The hot water was relaxing more than just his muscles. His mind was starting to float, and he knew if he wasn't careful he could fall asleep right there in the tub. They stayed in until the water started to cool.

"Are you hungry? I've got leftover Mexican takeout. Or we can have something else delivered."

Newt smiled at the non-response he managed to grumble out as his eyes slid closed again. He was about to pass out on her. She'd at least gotten the worst of the tension out of him, so she pulled the stopper and stretched for a towel.

"Let's get you to bed then, El."

"Only if you're coming with me."

He managed to rouse enough to get out of the bathtub and towel down. Newt didn't even bother to point out that he was walking directly to the bed without a stitch of clothing on. Instead she turned on the small night light in the corner and put him to bed, pulling the sheets up to his waist.

"I'll be in as soon as I lock up."

Good. He slept much better with her beside him. Even if they didn't manage to talk or spend much time together because of schedules, they made it a point to sleep together. She might be coming in from a night shift just as he was getting ready to start the day on occasion, but they didn't sleep apart if they could help it. His eyes were closed and he was out before she even shut the bedroom door.

He woke to the sound of his phone buzzing at his head and, thinking it was the alarm, slapped it so that if flew off the bedside table and across the room. He reached blindly for Newt, but she wasn't there. His phone finally stopped ringing, and just when he thought he had a chance of getting back to sleep it started up again, but louder. Cursing Nate he shoved the sheet down, and was stopped from getting up by Newt handing him the phone along with a mug of coffee. He winced as his muscles protested reaching for the mug, and he growled as he brought the phone to his ear.

"Don't you go anywhere woman."

Newt just smiled at him as she practically skipped into the bathroom.

"Eliot, is there something you need to share with the rest of the class?"

Eliot rolled his eyes at Nate's question. So much for sleeping in, or not sleeping, as it were.

L-L-L

"I'm just saying I don't see why we can't have a couple days off between jobs," Eliot vented as he applied a baggie of ice to his shoulder. Newt could massage out every kink, but she couldn't make bruises go away. When he got home it was his turn to massage her, and that thought was enough to distract him from the task at hand, "We just spent ten days in Juarez."

"What, you don't like the piñatas I bought?"

He raised an eyebrow at Parker, who was removing the candy from a donkey-or horse-or whatever- piñata piece by piece rather than break it. Did she seriously just ask that question?

"No time off, we've got lots to do."

And oh, how he wanted to kill Nate right now. He'd had plans to spend the morning in bed, if Newt didn't have to go to work, and just laze around and maybe get her to work the kinks out of his muscles again. But no, that was shot to hell now.

"Hardison, run it."

Oh, this Whitman definitely had coming to him whatever they could dish out. Just on principle Eliot wanted to do a lot more than take his money. You didn't steal from hardworking people who are trying to do the right thing and take care of their family. You just didn't.

"Me and Hardison'll hit the bank," Eliot quickly offered. One, because he didn't trust himself not to do more than the rest of the team would be comfortable with. Two, it wouldn't take long at all for them to finish at the bank, and he could get in some fishing. It was about time he got Hardison to do something other than play his stupid video games. Parker shook her piñata in his face, and he pulled off the head. He ignored her strange noises as he left a voicemail for Newt that he would be gone for the day, possibly two if he could get in some good fishing, and followed the others out to the van.

"I still don't see why we got—"

"Shut up, I got us the bank. We'll be in and out and still have time to throw a worm in the water."

"All this so you can go fishing? Man, I do my fishing at the grocery store."

"It'll be good for you. When's the last time you were outdoors?"

It was ridiculously easy to convince the manager to pull the Patriot Limited files. That should be plenty to spook whoever Whitman had here into calling him. The rest of it would be up to Nate and Sophie. The grifter just had to convince Whitman to take all of his money out of the bank.

"Coms and cell phones don't work up here. I'm gonna have to call Nate from a landline."

"You can call him from the bait shop while I tackle us up some food."

"Do I look like I eat food from a bait shop?"

Eliot shook his head. Hardison would never be mistaken for a country boy. He wouldn't even last a day in the woods if he had to survive on his own.

"You boys are going to come with me, or my boys'll blow your brains out."

Shit. Hardison had lasers sighted in on him. There was no way he could take all of them down before someone got off a lucky shot, not with them spread out. Eliot let himself be manhandled into the van. He closed his eyes once they started moving, tracking their movements. If Hardison would just shut up, he could figure out where they were. He was pretty sure they were headed for the woods, which wasn't good.

"Shut up, Hardison!"

"At least I'm trying to plan, what are you doing?"

"I'm drawing a map in my head."

He would need it when they had a chance to escape. Trying to rush the back door just because it was old and likely not secure was a terrible idea. The van would just turn around and come after them, and even at only 45 mph they could still get injured, and that would hurt their chances when they had a real opportunity to escape.

The van finally came to a stop. They'd been driving for twenty two minutes, so they were seventeen miles north of the bank. That wasn't so good. He wasn't sure he could get Hardison through seventeen miles of woods. They were let out in what was obviously a camp of some sort. Militia. Had to be militia. And wait a minute. He could smell fertilizer, and molasses.

"Turner Creek Minute Men. Anti-government militia, huh?"

"Anti-government Freedom Fighters!"

Oh, this man's head was so far up his ass it was a wonder he could even see straight. Eliot had no patience for these kinds of people. People who thought it was alright to attack their fellow citizens because they had a problem with the government. These fools had no idea what it meant to be a real soldier, and the fact they dared call themselves soldiers made him just want to snap the necks of every single one of them. Better men than they had given their lives to defend what they wanted to destroy.

One of the younger ones managed to get Hardison on his knees, and was trying to do the same to him.

"Ain't gonna happen bubba."

He would be damned if he let this kid put him on his knees.

"Sir, I've got one standing and one kneeling."

"Make it work."

"Hold on, hold on! Don't I get a last cigarette?"

He didn't know what the hell Hardison was trying to do with his BS about the Geneva Convention, but he went along with it. Anything to stall for time.

"Are we combatants or not?" he demanded of the ringleader.

Hardison was given his cigarette, and Eliot saw him drop it and pocket it as the kid who handed it to him fumbled for a match. He used the distraction to attack the one closest and pull Hardison with him into the woods. They ran for a few minutes before Eliot made them stop. Tearing through the woods with no direction was only going to get them killed.

"Listen to me! We were averaging forty five miles an hour for twenty two minutes and we made two turns off the highway. That means we're seventeen miles north of town, so we have to head south. South's that way!" He pointed south, which unfortunately meant uphill. Hardison immediately objected, arguing that downhill was faster. A quick match of rock paper scissors decided which way they were going. Hardison wouldn't believe he had a tell.

After several minutes of running, he pulled them to a stop again. He'd spotted skunkweed, and the dogs were definitely on their way. They had to throw them off the scent. "Rub this on you. We gotta get them off our scent."

"Naw, man. The smell is getting' all up in my nose, and—"

Eliot grabbed fistfuls of the plant and rubbed it on his clothes, then Hardison's. They still needed something else to throw the dogs off.

"High five!"

Hardison looked at him like he was crazy.

"High five for morale!"

Hardison finally gave him a high five and Eliot grabbed his wrist. He cut the younger man's hand and scraped the blood on the tree. And now Hardison was whining about them shooting at the black man, like they hadn't just tried to shoot him too?

"This'll work, I've done this before!"

"You've done this before? Run through the woods handcuffed to another man?!"

"Yes. It was easier last time."

"Why?!"

"The other guy was dead!"

He was startled by static and crackling in his ear bud.

"Nate! Nate, can you hear us!"

The static cut out whatever Nate was trying to say. There was too much interference.

"We got to bounce the signal on a radio tower."

"And how do we do that?"

"We get a clear view to the sky."

Climbing a tree handcuffed. This was going to be fun. It was worth the effort though, when they finally got through to Nate, and he decided to steal a train for them. They could get the hell out of this place without having to keep running.

"How are your train jumping skills?"

"I'm no hobo but I'll make do."

"Hold it right there!"

Damn!

"Go down."

"Why you gotta say it like that?"

"I wasn't sayin' it like that!"

Distraction was always the easiest way to take care of people. Now they just had to get on the train that was coming straight for them.

"Wait a minute. What were you smelling back at the camp?"

"Fertilizer and molasses. They use it to make a bomb. I've seen it in Lebanon, it's better than kerosene."

Newt was going to kill him for going back into the camp, but Hardison was right. They couldn't take the chance that the FBI wouldn't find these wackos in time. Hardison wouldn't be able to live with himself if they took off now and that bomb went off. He didn't particularly want anything else to add to the nightmares, either. First things first; they had to get rid of these handcuffs.

He had to hand it Hardison, using the lit cigarette to ignite that bomb was a pretty good idea. They were able to get away in the ensuing chaos, and they ran into Nate. Good. It was good to see that Nate was okay. He hadn't even had time to worry about how the others were doing while he and Hardison were running for their lives and then attacking the militia.

"You're not gonna let them get away, are you?"

"Eliot, I stole you a train. Have a little faith."

L-L-L-L

Sophie watched Eliot and Hardison head off as they waited for their client to arrive. She'd taken to watching the hitter quite a lot, recently. Something was different about him, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She doubted that Nate had picked up on it, but something had changed ever since they came back from Memphis. And she would bet money that it had nothing to do with that girl they'd helped, and everything to do with the girl he'd left behind in Boston to do it.

She didn't think it was a coincidence that they were unable to get in touch with either Eliot or Victoria for five straight days right after they got back from that job. Nor did she think it was a coincidence that Eliot was no longer staying at his apartment, but was living with Victoria, as Parker had so helpfully found out. And this time really living with her, as in sharing a bedroom living with her, which he hadn't been doing before.

She hadn't seen Victoria since before they went to Memphis, so it was impossible to get what happened from her, but Sophie was sure there was a story there. She was in no doubt that the two younger people would have had words at the very least, after what she witnessed in McRory's before they left for Tennessee. Oh, to be a fly on the wall during that confrontation…..

"Parker," Sophie turned to the thief after Nate went upstairs, "you didn't happen to notice anything unusual going on with Eliot and Victoria, did you?"

"Nope. They just do normal married people stuff. Oh! He is trying to teach her to cook, which would be enough to make him nuts, 'cause she really can't cook, I mean I'M a better cook than she is and that's really saying something, but that's—"

"Wait a minute, Parker. Did you just say 'married people stuff'? Why would you think they're doing 'married people stuff'?"

"Because married people do married people stuff."

Parker didn't even notice Sophie's jaw drop, or her quick shake of the head.

"Parker, are you saying that Eliot and Victoria are married?"

The blonde nodded.

"How do you know that?"

"I saw the picture last time I broke into their house. "

"Are you sure you saw a wedding picture? Of Eliot and Victoria?"

"She's in a lacy dress, he's in a tux, Maggie and her dad are standing with some guy and Eliot's family, that's a wedding picture."

Sophie wasn't sure what to do with that news. It certainly explained why Eliot was acting so strange. But what to do about it? Nate would be furious that they'd run off and gotten married without telling anyone. She was fairly insulted herself that she hadn't been invited to the wedding. Hardison would be upset that he'd missed a party, and a chance to make fun of Eliot. How could they get married without letting any of them know? But Maggie had been there? That just wasn't right. When Nate found out—

"Why don't you seem upset about the fact that they got married and didn't tell us?"

Parker seemed remarkably calm about being left out of something so momentous.

"Well it's not like they could invite any of us without telling Nate, and they couldn't invite Nate; he would try to kill Eliot," the thief said matter-of-factly. Sadly, Sophie couldn't argue with Parker's logic. Nate was sure to have very strong opinions on the subject of his daughter marrying a known killer, even if he wasn't that man anymore.

"Why would I kill Eliot?"

Sophie froze. She'd thought Nate was going up for the night. She looked to Parker, her mind racing for an explanation he would believe.

"What are you doing back down here?"

"Hardison and Eliot are playing some fishing game on my TV. Why would I kill Eliot?"

Parker must have decided to just go with it, because she answered him with the truth.

"Because they got married and didn't tell us."

"They-got-married? Eliot and Victoria got married?"

"Yep. Not sure when, but I'm guessing when we got back from Tennessee. Oh, Maggie was there, you can ask her when it was if you really want to know."

Wow. Sophie hadn't known Nate was capable of those facial expressions, or of turning such a shade of purple.

"Nate, breathe."

The explosion she was expecting didn't come. Nate made his way to the bar, grabbed a bottle, and started drinking. And kept drinking. After several minutes, Sophie tried to get his attention.

"Nate?"

Drowning himself in alcohol wasn't going to do anyone any good. He finally set the bottle down and wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Parker's right, I'm going to kill Eliot."

Sophie and Parker hurriedly followed him up the stairs.

"Nate, Eliot will break you in half. Don't do anything stupid!"

He pushed his apartment door open, surprised to see that Eliot was no longer fishing. He didn't see the hitter anywhere.

"Where is he?"

Hardison looked at him in surprise.

"Eliot? He's in the bathroom. What the-?"

He didn't even get to finish his question before Nate was pounding on the bathroom door.

"Get the hell out here now, Spencer!"

"Nate, get a grip! He's her choice, you can't try to take that away from her because you don't approve!"

He ignored Sophie's voice of reason as he pounded on the door again. Victoria didn't get to choose a mass killer just because she'd known him before he was a killer. And Eliot knew that!

"Spencer!"

"What the hell, Nate?" Eliot demanded as he jerked the door open, and had to duck as Nate took a swing at him. Was the man drunk?

"You did it! After I told you to—you had the nerve to—! "

Eliot had to jump back as another fist swung close to his face. What the hell was Nate talking about? Even for Nate this made no sense. He looked to the others for help as he blocked another hit. He really didn't want to hurt the man.

"Nate may or may not have heard that you and Victoria got married," Sophie informed him helpfully. Shit. This wasn't exactly how Newt had wanted to break The News.

"Hold up now, y'all got married?! And didn't even invite us to the party! Y'all should be ashamed of yourselves!"

Eliot thought Hardison's outrage would be almost amusing if Nate wasn't trying to kill him for it.

"How'd he find out?" Eliot asked as he dodged when Nate lunged for him.

"I saw the picture last time I was in your house," Parker admitted meekly. Eliot shot her a look of disbelief, and the distraction let Nate get a hit in. The blow was hard enough to make him stagger back a step before he lunged for the older man and caught him in a hold. He knew Nate was going to be mad, and probably even thought he had a right to be, but Eliot was done being a punching bag.

"Damn it, Parker!"

"You're out, Spencer! You're done with this team!"

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Nate and Eliot both stopped at Newt's yell. She was standing in the doorway, and she looked pissed. The others wisely back up a few steps from the two men still locked together, and Eliot immediately let Nate go. Newt looked from Eliot's face to Nate's hands still clenched into fists.

"Nate? Why the hell are you trying to fire Eliot?"

"You married him?!" Nate asked as he tried to draw in a deep breath.

"Yeah Nate, I did. You got a problem with that?"

"Yeah, I've got a big problem with you running off and getting married without saying anything! You tell my wife but you don't tell me!"

Newt shook her head as Nate swayed. He might not be completely drunk yet, but he was obviously not sober. What a way to deal with all of this. Still, crappy situation or not, she wasn't going to tip toe around Nate or why he wasn't included in their plans. He was a grown man, and if he couldn't deal with the consequences of his actions, well, that wasn't her problem.

"That's right, Nate. We didn't tell you. It's nothing to do with you, and honestly it wasn't any of your business. And considering your track record with men I decide to marry, it shouldn't be a surprise. You're an idiot if you think I was going to let you get anywhere near this after what happened last time you decided to interfere in my life."

"I wouldn't have to interfere if you didn't show such bad judgment in men."

He never would have said it if he was sober. He knew the moment the words left his mouth that they were a bad idea, but he couldn't retract them once they were said. He stumbled back from the force of the impact Victoria's fist to his face made.

"That's a fine way to talk about the man who puts his life on the line for your team every time you go out on a job, Jackass!"

Eliot had to fight off the smirk as Newt jumped to his defense. He was pretty sure that when Nate sobered up and had a chance to think everything through, he'd realize he was being irrational, but it was nice to see Newt defend him rather than leave him to deal with it all himself. Nate glared up at both of them through his one good eye.

"Do you have any idea of the things he's done?! He's killed people, Victoria! How am I supposed to be okay with that?!"

Apparently he couldn't stop himself from saying inappropriate things. He couldn't even blame all the alcohol he'd consumed before he came upstairs after Eliot; it hadn't had time to kick in yet.

"He's not the only one who's ever killed someone Nate."

"Hey! I haven't killed anyone!"

He may have put people in prison, but he'd never killed anyone. And if Eliot said that he did, for whatever insane reason, he was going to-

"I have!"

Stunned, he looked up at his daughter. Eliot had a hand on her arm, pulling her back from advancing on him. What did she mean, she'd killed someone? He would have heard about that.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the three men I killed the night I turned twenty one, men Eliot took the fall for killing, that's what I'm talking about Nate."

Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted the horrified looks on Sophie, Hardison, and Parker's faces at that declaration, but she really paid no attention to it at the moment. She only barely heard Eliot trying to talk her down, telling her that she didn't have to go through this again, as she stared hard at Nate.

"We were attacked outside a bar by a group of men. Men who decided that they were going to get rid of Eliot and take me and Emma. Eliot took care of most of them, but three of them died because I knew exactly where to slice through an artery and I did it. I know a hell of a lot more about taking life than you do, Nate, and you don't get to sit in judgment on it."

"Victoria, I-"

"I've only ever asked you for one thing, Nathan Ford. You'd better decide whether you can take your head out of your ass and accept that I get to live my life on my terms, not yours. Because if you can't, I won't hesitate to ask again."

She finally let Eliot lead her out of the apartment as Nate hung his head miserably. That could have gone better.

"Nate, I think you'd better sleep this off," Sophie was urging him to his feet and towards the staircase to his bedroom. He didn't deserve to have these people still here with him, not after what he'd just done. He knew better than to go after Eliot the way he did, or to challenge Victoria's right to choose how she led her life.

"And in the morning, once you've sobered up, you'd better get over to their house and beg Eliot to come back, on your knees if you have to."

Yeah, he'd have to do that. They couldn't work half so well without Eliot there to protect him. The young hitter hadn't deserved the things Nate had thrown in his face today. He would have some major apologies to make once he could think clearly.


End file.
